Starfire
by Prince SuperSharky
Summary: I am the Star, ever present in the Sky, ready to fall at any moment; and in a streak of brilliance, eradicate all enemies. "Am I human?" Of course not. I'm not like them...right? I don't want to fall... Please don't let me fall... OC/? Eventual pairing!
1. And So It Begins

**Disclaimer/Claimer: **_Katekyo Hitman Reborn! _(including its plotlines, characters etc.) belongs to Akira Amano. Anything you don't recognize from canon—namely plotlines and OCs—belong to me, Prince SuperSharky.

**Please enjoy~!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**And So It Begins**

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><p>I sprint up the hill, skidding around the corner, hair flying, trying desperately to pull my skirt down. I guess I requested a size too small. I had also decided to order a male uniform, along with a girls'. I had fun mixing and matching this morning, oh yes I did. However, that's also the reason why I'm running now. I smooth my sweater vest in a futile attempt to look presentable. The tie from the male uniform flaps in the wind, and hits me in the face. I push my bag back onto my shoulder, panting.<p>

In the distance that I'm (hopefully) fast approaching, there's the clamour of other stragglers like me. To my horror, the noise dies down at the dreaded sound: The bell rings. My response is well-justified: "Why did this have to happen on the first day of school?"

Yup, finally, I'm entering Nami Chuu. Maybe this time…maybe it'll be different. But, I know. I've stayed in place for too long. I'll need to move on soon.

"Midori tanabiku…"

The school anthem is already playing. "I'm late! I'm late! I'm late!"

The gates have already been closed. I grip the metal bars, peering around warily.

"Ha! As if a stupid fence could keep me out!" I roll up the sleeves of my dress shirt, then remember with a start, and roll them back down. I glance around, sighing, and then sling my bag across my chest. I back up, rubbing my hands together.

I take one last look around, and launch myself at the gate. Landing on the other side, I glance back at the fence smugly.

_Not!_

Of course I can't get over it. Do you see any normal people my age jumping gates that high? What really happens is: I leap at it, hands scrabbling for a handhold before I lose my grip, falling back to the pavement. The result is: I look like a complete idiot.

Behind me, cars speed down the road, blasting me with gusts of hot air. I struggle to keep my skirt down with a great scowl on my face. The only thing I can do is pace back and forth in front of the gates.

* * *

><p>"Ahh…Everyone is present…Except for one…Does anybody know…Asunake Kariya? Is she here?" Sensei asks.<p>

Yamamoto looks around. Kariya? Yeah, he knew her. Not very well, though. She'd moved here about half a year ago, and although she had a wide circle of friends, no one seemed to really know anything about her.

He'd talked to her once or twice, and she was nice enough. But…she always seemed so distant, so self-important.

* * *

><p>After a few minutes of struggling, I manage to pull myself up onto the top of the gate. I sit there, feet dangling off the side of the fence. I grin to myself, revelling in the glow of my success. But inside, I know that I'm just stalling—adjusting my bag, fiddling with my tie—trying to put off the inevitable.<p>

"You're late."

"Hrm?" I look down. My eyes meet steel grey ones, glaring up at me. Then I notice the red armband. "Fuu…ki...? Fuuki…oh! Disciplinary Committee!" I scratch the back of my head. "My bad, my bad! My Japanese is still…iffy."

"Get down. You're an eyesore, and you're disrupting the peace of Namimori."

_He's so unfriendly._ I frown and call out to him, "Hey, what's your name?"

He returns the frown and answers haughtily, "The only name I'm getting here is yours, after I bite you to death."

"Bite…me?" I ignore his tone, opting to look at him curiously.

He pulls out a pair of tonfas. "Eep!" I wave my arms frantically. "H-Hey! It's just a misunderstanding here! I'm a—I'm a visitor!"

"A visitor?" He looks me over, taking in the school uniform, "You're a student here. First year."

"Booked," I grin somewhat abashedly at him, "I'll get to class now. Can I please go?"

"Get down," He answers with a blank expression.

_I'll take that as a yes._ I scoot back and forth on the rung, getting a sick sense of vertigo just from looking down from the gate—barely three metres high.

He's becoming irritated at my hesitance—it's evident by the scowl directed at me, "Get down now, herbivore, or shall I drag you down from there?"

I clutch my bag, and squeeze my eyes shut. My internal pep talk is interrupted by the feeling of the gate shuddering beneath me. My eyes flash open at the sensation, and realize that he's finally lost his patience. He opens the gate roughly, the abrupt motion forcing me to jump off.

It slams shut behind me as I land awkwardly, rolling my ankle. I crouch down, wincing as a streak of pain shoots up my leg. I cringe, but it passes briefly, and I straighten up, glaring at him.

He smirks. I don't have time to respond—he doesn't give me time to respond—as the first tonfa strike drives itself into my stomach.

"I don't like your attitude," He follows up with a vicious blow to my head.

My vision whites out as I spin around from the force of his blow, collapsing in a graceless heap on the dewy grass. I stay down for a moment, disoriented. My vision comes back slowly, and I shake my head to clear it.

"Wear the proper uniform next time, herbivore. And don't be late again," He warns in a menacing tone. He brings the tonfa down once more.

I raise my arm to fend off the hit. The blow glances off my forearm with a metallic sound.

He pulls back a bit, a look of mild surprise adorning his face, and I grin, getting shakily to my feet. "Oh…I see. You're Hibari Kyoya, The demon of Namimori! Fuuki Iinchou…Disciplinary head of Nami Chuu…ne?"

He raises an eyebrow at me.

I frown at his silent response, "Are you one of _them_?"

He composes himself quickly, smirking mysteriously, "Herbivore, get to class."

As he raises his tonfa to strike, I move to pull the concealed weapon from my sleeve, but with a sickening shock of _fear_, it gets caught on the cuff of my shirt. In that split second, my eyes widen, and I shrink back, but to no avail—the tonfa smacks me full in the face.

"And another rule. Only I'm allowed to bring weapons to school."

I go flying into the gate, back colliding with the iron bars. I fall onto the dirt path; dazed, I groan. My body throbs with pain. When I garner enough adrenaline to look back up, I find that he's already gone.

I snarl, picking myself up off the ground, pushing the scabbard back up my sleeve. I dust myself off and try to make myself look presentable, but what's the point?

_That guy, he pisses me off!_ I smirk angrily and pop my collar, loosen the tie, and muss up my hair. Bring it, Hibari Kyoya!

Next time, _I'll_ challenge you.

* * *

><p>But upon reaching the door, I fix my clothing back up. I want to face him as an opponent, not as a bratty kid who's in trouble.<p>

Taking a deep breath to steel myself (as well as giving myself a moment to think), I knock on the door to the classroom—Class 1-A—and wait.

I hear the muffled voices inside stop, and a shadow approaches, sliding the door open for me. The man has a stern look on his face. "Asunake Kariya?"

My shoulders droop, and I give him an innocent look. "Yes, sir. Sorry I'm late. I was caught up with something...urgent. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again!" I smirk internally. I didn't lie.

His facial features soften just a smidge. _Bingo._

"Alright, come in. Just make sure it doesn't happen again. Introduce yourself to the class."

I walk up to the front of the class. It's time for a fresh start. _How shall I project myself this time?_

I smile at the students. "Good morning everybody!"

They return my smile, and some even mutter a reply back.

"I'm Asunake Kariya, but you can call me whatever you want. Just to let you guys know, I recently moved here...well, about a year ago..._but_ my Japanese is still a bit...not good, so I won't use honorifics, because I don't want to get them wrong. I call everyone by name...so sorry if I come off as rude," I laugh. "Well...yeah," I look up at sensei, "Can I sit down now?"

"Yes...take that one," He points at an empty desk.

Glancing at their faces, I recognize Yamamoto and Sawada from elementary.

The class murmurs.

"She arrived late..."

"What nerve..."

"She referred to herself with 'boku'..." **[1]**

"Her uniform, too..."

"Look at her. She must think that she's above the rest of us."

_Is that so?_ I sit down. _So _that's_ the kind of impression I gave..._

I return Yamamoto's smile, and I begin my first day of middle school.

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><p><strong>AN: **

**[1] **In case you were wondering, most girls refer to themselves as 'watashi' or informally, 'atashi'. And although 'boku' is a gender-neutral pronoun, mostly males use it (e.g. Hibari Kyoya, Irie Shoichi).

Please leave useful reviews—don't waste internet space. Flames will be used to roast marshmallows with Byakuran.


	2. PeachSenpai

**Chapter 2**

**Peach-Senpai**

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><p>Classes pass uneventfully, and soon, it's lunch.<p>

I recognize a lot of people from elementary, but they seem to have changed so much in such a short time. They look a lot more…_mature_…(?)

They're not the same, predictable people that I met about a year ago. They've changed. I'm not sure I like how they've changed. Some are wearing make-up, and tittering away. Really. Girls, we're what, 13, 14 years old? No. Just, no.

The only girls that haven't changed much are Sasagawa Kyoko and Kurokawa Hana. So, deeming them as 'safe', I head over to talk to them. Sitting down next to Kyoko I greet them, "Morning, Kyoko, Hana!"

"What were you thinking, Asunake?" Hana frowns, looming over me with crossed arms, "Coming to class late on your first day?"

I laugh a bit nervously. I've never really felt intimidated by a girl...Hana's the only exception. _She's gotten scarier…_

"Are you alright, Kariya-san?" Kyoko asks, concerned.

"Ne?" I follow her gaze, and subtly shake my head—to ward off her worry, and so my hair falls forward, "I'm alright, Kyoko."

I stand, brushing my skirt off and smoothing it down, "Anyway. I'm off to get some lunch. I'll see you later!"

I make my escape, running out of the room as Hana calls after me, "Hey! You're just trying to get out of clean-up duties!"

I laugh. _Of course. Why should _I _have to clean up?_ I run my hands through my hair. I hope that shake of my head was subtle enough—and that my hair covered the bruise that's forming on my jaw line.

I decide to take a quick walk around the school, just to see what it's like, and to clear my head. Clasping my hands behind my back, I trot out of the school. As soon as I exit the building, a voice calls, no, _demands_ my attention: "Oi!"

A group of guys are crowded around the front gates. Instinct tells me to continue on my way, and ignore them—they're not important enough to garner my attention.

_And plus,_ a small voice in my head warns, _Just __look__ at them. They're __thuggies__._

I chuckle at that. So, just to humour myself (as well as to spite my intuition), I approach them.

"Yo," I greet, staring at them through the bars.

"We want to see Hibari Kyoya. Bring him out here!" A guy who appears to be their ringleader orders me.

_No one orders me around._ I raise an eyebrow at him, "And just _who_ are you?"

"We're from Kokuyo and we've got some beef with Hibari."

The rest of the boys roar in assent. I take in their battle stances and their bats and sticks, then turn on my heel, calling over my shoulder, "Nah. I'm good. I don't know where Hibari is, and it's not my business anyway."

I continue on my walk. _So Hibari's _that_ (in)famous._

The school is pretty big—three floors and sparkling white—overall, a nice building with a pleasant atmosphere. The fields are pristine, and the freshly mowed grass smells refreshing. It's rather nice for an educational complex...

Then there's a loud crash to ruin this great mood. I jump about a foot into the air before I plaster myself to the wall, flattening myself against it to present a smaller target. When my heartbeat slows to a more regular rhythm, and my erratic breathing calms, I take a chance and peer around the corner of the building to watch the events unfold before my eyes.

The gates come crashing down in a metallic furor, matched by the rising tension of the crowd. "Hibari! Come out! We have a score to settle!"

Immediately, men in black uniforms come flooding out of the front doors of the school.

"Ne? Pompadour?" I eye their regent hairstyles.

"Who are you? State your business here," The guy with the biggest hair says—he must be their leader.

Mutterings drift through the gathered thugs, "It's...It's the _Disciplinary Committee_."

_The Disciplinary Committee?_

"We're from Kokuyo!" The leader of the thuggies declares, kicking the metal scraps aside roughly, jutting his chin out, "Bring your leader out here! We want to see him!"

"Kyo-san doesn't need to be troubled by people like you. State your business here."

"Che! If we can't see him, then we'll trash this place up!"

Their angry cries crescendo.

"Fight?" I murmur, otherwise watching silently from my hiding spot.

The leader of the pompadours sighs, closing his eyes briefly. When he opens them again, he appears to have steeled himself. He's tensed, as if preparing for the now inevitable fight. However, he still delivers the ultimatum in a cool tone, "This is your last warning. Leave now, and we'll collect the reparation fees from you later."

"I don't think so!"

The Kokuyo boys run towards them, weapons brandished, ready to deal some damage. There's no signal, but the men in black surge forward to meet them with well-practiced synchronization. I cringe as the committee flawlessly switches from cool diplomacy into Attack Mode. _Yup, they've definitely had much practise._

I wonder what Hibari did to piss off these Kokuyo guys. It's true that they look like scruffy delinquents, but isn't that kind of shallow? They look genuinely angry, and with Hibari's haughty attitude, it's not hard for me to imagine what exactly went down.

But, as I look closer, I have to say, the Kokuyo uniform looks pretty cool. They definitely look a lot more comfortable than what I'm wearing right now. I self-consciously tug at the skirt. Geh.

When the commotion dies down, the Disciplinary Committee efficiently delegates jobs. A small squad leaves, presumably to go collect the aforementioned fees from the Kokuyo district. Another group is left to dispose of the bodies, carting them out by the dozen. I half-heartedly wonder where they'll be taken.

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and I feel my ears prick up slightly, and I look up at the approaching male—the leader of the pompadours. He greets me evenly, "Hey."

I quickly stand at attention, hoping my Namimori uniform will get me out of trouble—I'm not looking forward to the possible punishments. I return the greeting hurriedly, the thought of scrubbing floors running through my mind, "Morning—no..._Afternoon_."

He looks me over. "You're the first-year that Kyo-san was talking about. Asunake Kariya, class 1-A."

I nod, "Yup. Can I help you?"

"My name is Kusakabe Tetsuya, vice-Chairman of the Disciplinary Committee. I'll give you a warning because you're new here. But you're not allowed out of the school during lunch unless it's for a legitimate, school-related activity, or with permission from one of the faculty."

I nod again, "Alright."_ I'll comply this time, since you were nice and all, Kusakabe, and because I'm already bored with exploring the outside of the school._

"And I'll have to ask that you please not wander in the hallways as well, Asunake-san."

_Damn._

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><p>Since I'm not going to be staying the entire school-year in Namimori, I decide to try out some clubs—just, short, one-time things to see what it's like to be a normal kid. A lot of them are starting up this first week, and they'll be willing to accept new kids like me.<p>

"Let's see..." I look at the notices posted on the boards outside of the reception room.

"Cooking club..." I snort. _Yeah...no._

"Swim team." _No._

"Basketball team." _No._

"Gardening club—You know what? Screw this!" I close my eyes, and place my finger down on a random spot on the board, then open my eyes, "Ne?"

My finger's stopped right between two clubs. I read them aloud to myself, trying to discern the kanji characters, "Kendo...team? And Instrumental Band?"

That works out perfectly. Kendo today, band tomorrow, and who knows what next.

"Asunake-san...Did I not tell you to stay put and not wander in the hallways?"

_Booked._

But, this time, I'll face him instead of nodding and slinking away. I turn to Kusakabe, "Heya!"

"Asunake-san, can you please return to your classroom?"

"But, I'm bored, and I'll probably cause more trouble in there. If you really think that I'll be a public nuisance, then allow me to accompany you at least."

"Asunake-san, please do as I say, or there will be consequences."

I frown, voice hardening, "Like what?"

"Detentions, or extra chores at the very least."

I raise an eyebrow. _Really? __Soft__._

But still, I don't want to do them. So I answer him evenly, "Alright then, Kusakabe. If I remember correctly, you said that I wasn't allowed to wander around the hallways. So, I'm going to the rooftop."

"Uhh, Asunake-san, you can't!"

"Ne?" I pause, detecting the sudden franticness in his voice, "Why not?"

"At least, not right now. You'll disturb Kyo-san's nap."

"...His..._nap._" _Shouldn't he be in class, or something?_

"Yes. So _please_, head back to your class."

"It's okay! I'll be quiet," I answer quickly. _Hell no. I'm gonna' wake him up, and teach him to look down on me._

Instantly, several of the Committee members have surrounded me. Kusakabe rubs his temples, answering almost tiredly, "We'll escort you to your classroom, Asunake-san."

Kusakabe looks like he has a bad headache. Good. That makes us even, since I've got one too from this stuffy building.

* * *

><p>I run to the gym afterschool, eager to do something—<em>anything.<em> I'm so unused to a classroom environment that I spent my time staring out of the window. So bored was I, that I was about to run out of class to pick a fight with the senior students who were skipping.

Those seniors were right in my line of sight, smoking behind the gym. It wasn't their smoking that got to me, but rather, their _freedom._

While _I'm_ stuck here in class, after being escorted and lectured by Kusakabe, then lectured by Sensei for not staying to help clean up, sitting through three periods of pure boredom, I wanted to give them a piece of my mind.

_Why did the Disciplinary Committee pick on __me__ and not these slackers?_

But, they were saved by the bell. And so, here we are.

I open the door to find a whole bunch of people already there. A bunch of people; all male, all older than me, and seriously...for the lack of a better word: _diesed_.

The noise dies down as they all fall silent, turning to stare at me.

"Um...Heya. I'm here to join the Kendo Club," I try.

They blink, looking at each other, then burst out into raucous laughter.

"Uh..." I'm really not sure how to respond to this. Should I laugh at their stupidity, or go Bankai on their asses at the obvious insult? **[1]**

"Oi! Captain! A little girl is here to join the Kendo Club!"

"Eh?" A black-haired guy pushes off from the wall, and the other boys part for him. He studies me with a condescending look on his face, "Are you lost, little girl?"

"No," I answer, trying to stay calm at his obnoxious tone as he begins to walk towards me. I repeat myself, "I'm here to join the Kendo Club."

My eyes can't help but dart around the wide expanse of the gym—out of experience, you could say.

"Sorry, little girl, but you can't."

"Ne...I just wanted to try my hand at this," I push.

"You look like you're hardly able to support your own weight. Go home, little girl."

"Hey!" I cry as he turns away. "What gives you the right to talk to me like that? Give me a..." I point and flounder for words, "Yeah! Give me that thing, and some armour, and let's go! You and me! I'll show you that I'm capable!"

The Captain laughs. "You mean a _shinai_? Fine. You!" He points at a few of the underclassmen. "Get her some _bogu_, and a _shinai_."

I hold my arms out as they hurry to equip me with the armour and a wooden practice sword. "My name is Asunake Kariya. Don't you forget it."

"Captain Mochida. I'll let you join if you can get even one point on me. If I get five points on you, then I win, and you'll just have to go home, Asunake Kariya."

The underclassmen hurriedly step away from me. I grip the shi..._shinai(?)_ tightly in my hands. I'm pretty sure that this isn't the proper stance...but it doesn't really matter.

I'm screwed anyway. I don't even know why I even bothered to challenge him. I'm really bad with swords. I feel unbalanced. The shinai is too long for me, and when I hold it poised in front of me, I feel as if I'm about to tip over.

"Begin!"

Wait, _what_? That's _it?_ Just a 'begin'?

Mochida waits a moment for me to shake off the unnecessary thoughts, then smirks at me from under the headgear. "Here I come. Prepare yourself, Asunake!"

I close my eyes, and force the shinai up to block. It teeters and shakes in my hands. I open my eyes, confused when nothing makes contact with the wood.

He taps me on the head with his sword.

An underclassman raises the flag, calling out, "One point, Mochida."

"I don't hit girls," Mochida laughs, and dances away when I swipe at him, outraged. Too slow—my swings are _too slow._ But my arms are already straining to move the weapon.

"Oya! Fight me seriously!" I yell. The headgear is restricting my hearing and sight, and everything's blurring into a disorienting colour of vision and sound. Something hits me in the small of my back, and I whirl around to face Mochida.

"Two points, Mochida."

_Dizzy..._

He languidly avoids my drunken swings, and tauntingly pokes my stomach with the tip of his sword.

"Three points, Mochida."

"You want me to fight you seriously? You can't even lift your sword, or hold it properly, let alone block! Here! See?"

The breath is knocked out of me as his shinai swings into the armour. Even through the thick material of the armour, I can feel the force behind his hit.

"Four—No. Three points, Mochida."

What makes me pick myself up off the ground is the fact that I brought the shinai up in time to block his attack.

But...the shinai I hold is...halved?

"Wait a minute..." I pull the headgear off indignantly. "You gave me broken equipment!"

I throw the broken practice sword down, and begin to strip off the rest of the armour. "You purposely gave me faulty equipment!"

Tossing the last piece of armour down, I feel much lighter. I glare at him, "You're a cheating bastard. This fight has lost its meaning..." My mouth curves up into a sneer, "Though I'm flattered that you'd feel the need to cheat against me."

"The match isn't over yet!" Mochida says, "It'll end with a victor, and a loser!" He calls, running at me. He's mad at that cheating bastard comment, and now he's coming at me full-force. _He fully intends on ending this. He's not (really) playing around anymore._

I roll to the side, and mentally congratulate myself on my ninja skills, before scolding myself for my lack of attention. I grab the broken shinai, and weigh it in my hands. It's still heavier than what I'm used to, but it's better than before, and there's not all the armour to inhibit me—

I pull the broken bamboo blade to the side to block the incoming blow, and go skidding, then tumbling into the wall. _Damn. I didn't get my block up in time._

"Four points, Mochida."

"Stupid..." I mutter. Turns out, the armour _did_ serve a purpose. And I've misjudged the length and weight of the blade—I've grown (somewhat) accustomed to the heavy chunkiness of the shinai, and now that it's broken, it's so much lighter, and obviously not as long.

Mochida waits for me to stand again, and this time, I take the initiative to run at him.

The adrenaline is pumping, and I force myself to think of him not as Mochida, not as a senpai, a student, a person—but as Alexei. Alexei who's going to kill me, who's going to bring the blade down and end my life.

I duck under his arm, and whirl around him, feeling the heat emanating off of his back and the slight rush of the air past my face. The world's a whirl of sights and reverberations, tenacious in the air. I spin the broken shinai in my hand so that I'm holding it by the broken blade, and strike him with the smooth handle just as his bamboo sword hits the side of my head.

My head's wrenched to the side, and I collapse, neck throbbing. _Whiplash much...?_

"Five points, Mochida...Eh-eh...One point, Asunake..."

I spring up into a seated position, reinvigorated at the comment, then wince at the sudden motion, "Ha! I win!"

"…Eh…Captain…it was a tie."

Mochida extends a hand to me, and I ignore it, standing on my own.

He doesn't take it to heart, and retracts his hand with a smirk, "Not bad, Kariya."

_What's with this sudden change of heart?_ I eye him warily,"Does that mean I can join?"

"No. I don't allow girls to join. And besides, you're only a first-year."

"What?" I toss the broken bamboo blade down at his feet, glaring up at him, "You're a cheater, _and_ a liar, Momo-senpai!"

"Momo-senpai?" He twitches. **[2]**

"Yup!" I nod, grinning deviously, "I'll aggravate you into letting me join. I'll call you Momo-senpai until you let me join!"

"...You...do realize that even if you join, you're my kohai, and a first-year."

I nod.

He smirks, "Then, alright. You can join. Next week. Same time, same place."

"Alright!"

Stupid, naive me. Next week would show me exactly what senpai are like to their poor, unappreciated kohai.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**[1]** Bleach reference~!

**[2] **Momo means peach in Japanese.

To me, Kusakabe seems like the Good Cop to Hibari's Bad Cop. x)

And Mochida...I always thought he was cool, even if he was only a minor character/plot device in the anime/manga. Sorry if I butchered his character. But not much is really known about him other than the fact that he's a chauvinist who likes Kyoko. So, I had a little fun with his character.

Please review~!


	3. Stupid Otaku!

**Chapter 3**

**Stupid Otaku!**

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><p>Today, I stay in my seat for lunch. I don't feel like getting up today—<em>not<em> because I'm intimidated by Hibari and his little cronies, but because I honestly can't be bothered to get up. The only time I leave my seat is to toss the chewed up stick of my lollipop out. But then I quickly return to slouch over on my desk, unwrapping a chocolate bar.

Those with bento boxes and some common courtesy turn away from me, and those without courtesy continue to stare. I glare coldly at those people, and when my stomach growls, I look sharply out of the window. Eating the rest of the candy, I stuff the plastic wrapper into my desk. I'll throw it out later, maybe, if I remember, or care enough to.

My stomach growls again and I look down at it, then scan the room for any witnesses. Placing my head down on my desk, I look out the window at the cloudy sky. My eyes shift down to watch as the Committee erects a shiny new gate.

I immerse myself in the happenings outside of the classroom, attempting to ignore the sounds around me. _I just want to go __home__..._

* * *

><p>I sit in the first row, waiting; my clarinet in my lap. I listen to the chatter around me, and soon tune it all out. I glance around, bored. What's the point of staying here, of participating in school stuff? I'll have to leave sooner or later anyway.<p>

...Maybe that's _why_. Some part of me still struggles to be normal—_wants_ to be normal. But sadly, no matter how hard I try—how hard I _pretend—_that can't ever be.

I sigh, glancing at the clock. If sensei's late, I'm leaving band practice. I look out the window. It really is a nice day. Such a shame to let it go to waste waiting for the wayward man while being surrounded by these obnoxiously loud people.

None of these people are interesting. They laugh, they joke...but they lack..._something_. I just don't click with them is all—I mean, they're nice enough people.

Smirking sardonically, I think to myself, _How many of them could I take on at once?_ I gaze around the room. There's a flute player that I know who's on the track team, as is one of the lower brass players.

I eye the percussionists, spinning their drumsticks around, and then take a look at the saxophones, deep in trivial banter. I turn to inspect my fellow clarinettists. They've politely cut me out of the conversation when they realized I wasn't fully there. They're too nice—they wouldn't last a moment against me.

I smile to myself, staring out the window once again.

_Yes. There's definitely no one in Nami Chuu that'd be able to take me on. _

_..._

_Well__…_

I get up, placing my clarinet on my empty seat, finally working up the initiative to walk over and throw the window open. I lean against the frame as a refreshing breeze blows in. An image of the demon appears in my head, smirking.

I scoff. _No, not even him. It was just the stupid sheath getting caught on my sleeve. Next time, next time I'll definitely—_

Sensei comes in, apologizing for being late, and making some excuse about a jammed photocopier and having new pieces for us to play.

I return to my seat somewhat sullenly. I can't leave now without seeming suspicious.

He hands out the music, and I glance at it. It's alright. Not too hard. I look at my senpai sitting on my left, and joke with him about having to play thirty-second note runs and how "Omigod! That's all in _one bar!_"

It feels wrong to be around such happy people, so _many_ people (_so many happy people...)_.

But it's...oddly..._amusing_. Because I can observe them, study them, and copy their movements so easily.

_Am _I_ human?_

I shake my head, sharing a laugh with myself. _Of course not. Why do I even ask? I'm not like them. I'm a star. They are beneath me._

"Are you alright, Kariya-chan?"

"Hmm?" I look up at the other clarinettists. They're so...far away from me. Their smiles, laughter...They're so...distant.

I can only copy them, and flash them their own smiles back. _I can only mirror their movements._

"I'm fine."

* * *

><p>I stuff my hands into the pockets of my coat, walking off school property. It's a bit chilly for the month of April.<p>

Though, I really shouldn't complain. The weather's nice enough, not like the muggy southern parts of China. _Ugh. The humidity..._

_I don't want to leave Namimori. I don't _have_ to, do I?_ I shake my head at my own stupid question. I don't even bother to answer myself.

Searching through my pockets to locate the key, I finally fish it out of my laptop bag, and open the gate to the house. I check the mail slot, and pull out a bunch of advertisements, ads, coupons, ads, political statements, flyers, bills, bills, and bills.

I close the door behind me with my heel, walking into the kitchen. "I'm back," I call.

Sighing, I toss the envelopes on the table along with the keys. _I guess no matter how good and convenient illusions are, they can't pay the bills…_

And on top of that happy thought, I'm running low on cash. These few years have been nice. Namimori's nice. But, it seems that it may be time to move on again. I'll miss this place.

I plop down on the couch, burying my face into a cushion. Scrolling through a mental list, I consider my options. Maybe Tokyo…it'd looked nice when I'd stopped there. I guess, if I want to, I could try London…Nah…

I'm feeling a bit crazy…Could I chance Venice?

**No**. I sit bolt right. _Just…no._

Paris might be nice, but my French is a bit rusty. _Who'm I kidding? It's __non-existent__..._

Rolling over to stare up at the ceiling, I consider actually doing some homework for once…I smile wryly and grab my schoolbag along with the keys and head upstairs.

I pull my laptop out, turning it on while creating another list in my head—this time of which items of furniture should be sold first.

The thought nags at me until it forms fully: _I should start researching for my science project._

"Psh, yeah right."

I'll read the latest chapter of Naruto first. Bleach as well, while I'm at it. I'll load the next few episodes of Kuroshitsuji too. I never do my homework, so even if I did, sensei would accuse me of copying someone else's. He obviously doesn't expect much of me.

Che. What an idiot.

Nevertheless, the thought rankles me to the point where I cave in to the rising anxiety and open up a browser window to Google a few items for science.

I start to wonder who my group members will be…I've never been very good at science, but acting like an average student has gotten to be a bit tiresome. I'm a prodigy, yo.

Meh.

Maybe I'll portray myself a little more…'smartly' (?) in…London, was it? I giggle, "Lovely weather we're having today, isn't it?" I say in a British accent, and laugh to myself.

Opening a new tab on the browser window, I Google London and skim through some pictures, skipping over cheesy tourist photos (but not before laughing at them), then search for suitable accommodations and schools.

I sigh, picking up my latest novel, which will probably be sold as well. I toss it onto the monstrous pile of books—mostly manga. Maybe this is why I never have enough money to pay the bills…I skim through a volume of Fruits Basket, and it joins the pile. Vampire Knight, One Piece (which I despise, but bought just to humour myself), and a few volumes of Inuyasha join the forlorn mountain.

I sigh yet again, giving up on seriously doing my homework. I select a random article and copy-paste the page into a word document, printing it off as proof of my 'research' for science. Shutting my laptop off, I stretch, pulling on a sweater, and sling my bag over my shoulder.

Grabbing my keys as I go, I lock the door behind me, then stuff them into my bag.

"Alright," I turn to face the road, "Where to today?"

My stomach growls. I laugh lightly, running a hand through my hair, the other hand digging through my pockets. I'm mildly surprised to find a few hundred yen in my hands—I didn't think I'd have _this_ much. I thought that I'd only have enough for a scantling of a meal. Insta-noodles tonight, I guess! It's my lucky day!

But...I need some stuff for breakfast and lunch tomorrow...I guess I don't _really_ need dinner...

I pass by a bookstore, and on impulse, I walk in. I resurface a while later with a volume each of Kurohime, Naruto, Pandora Hearts, and a copy of Nabari no Ou that I'm sure I've already read. I put them all in my bag, slinging it across my body.

I step out onto the bustling streets of downtown Namimori. Obviously, I've lost track of time. It's already dark outside. I facepalm suddenly as it dawns on me. "FOOD!"

_I'm an idiot! Dammit! Stupid! Idiot anime-freak! Stupid Otaku!_

It's not until a woman kindly asks if I'm alright that I realize that I'd spoken aloud. "Oh...No. I'm fine. Thank you, miss." I flash her a tight-lipped smile, and hurry on my way. I rummage through my bag, and find a few more coins—perhaps enough for a bag of ketchup chips?

I walk down intersection of the street to the convenience store. The automatic doors slide open for me, and the sudden contact with the cool air-conditioning makes me shiver. I take my time, searching for the biggest bag I can get for my money...oh and a drink or something would be nice as well. I've just noticed my thirst levels are growing unbearably high.

Ignoring my hunger (thirst takes precedence), I offhandedly grab a party pack of ketchup chips, and continue to search for a drink.

In an adjacent aisle, there's a girl chattering away with whom I presume to be her mother. They pick up a few treats and some soft drinks, and head on past me to the check-out lanes.

I don't know why, but intrigued, I absently grab a drink, and follow, lining up behind them.

Her voice is familiar. "And then, he came up to us, and he had this adorable little baby with him. You should meet them someday, Mom. They're really nice!"

The mother laughs as she pays for the food.

"Oh! Mom! Hold on. Can we get some Pocky for Onii-san too?"

"Sure, sure. Go get them, quickly."

The girl grabs some boxes of strawberry and chocolate Pocky, and her mother pays for those as well.

Mmm...Pocky...

My eyes silently follow them as they leave the store to join the rest of their family. The girl shares a laugh with her enthusiastic brother as she hands him the Pocky. He raises the box high over his head, and yells something that's silenced by the glass of the windows.

I smile wistfully. My mind is brought back by the cashier. "Miss? Excuse me, Miss? Are you alright?"

"Oh! Yes!" I step up to the counter, "Yes, I'm fine. Sorry, just spaced out for a moment."

I fish out the few coins from my pocket and a chill runs through me. This time, it's not the air-conditioning. Placing the bag of ships and the drink—it's a coke, I think—down on the counter, I dig through my other pockets.

The customers behind me are growing impatient, and the cashier seems to be at a loss for words.

But there's simply nothing that I can do. I just don't have enough money. I reach for the items and the sad-looking coins. "Erm...yeah...sorry...I guess I'll...put those back, then..."

That's not awkward _at all_...Embarrassment grants me a pink blush. But a presence beside me makes me turn. A light laugh makes his identity known.

"I think...this is enough...?" He places a few coins down along with his items.

The cashier blushes, stuttering a little, "Y-Yes."

I turn to him, covering up my embarrassment with a smile, "Thanks Yamamoto."

"No, no, it's fine. I needed to get rid of all that spare change anyway..."

I laugh. We grab our food and go. It's pretty dark out now; the dim yellow streetlamps light our path. Their glow reminds me of lanterns, supposedly guiding the dead.

"It's dark out..." Yamamoto murmurs, breaking the silence, "Hey, Kari-chan, I'll walk ya' home!"

"Um...uh..." Would it seem fishy if I refused? I...uh... "...S-Sure!"

Cue inner facepalm.

Yamamoto smiles, and I scold myself internally. _Get yer' damn act together, woman!_

"So, er...What're you doing out so late?" I ask.

"We had baseball tryouts today...Coach ran us pretty late," He gestures to the gear in his bag.

_Why didn't I see that before? Stupid!_ "Oh...Hey, Yamamoto, thanks for that back there."

"Oh, that? I told you, it's fine, Kari-chan."

"No, no, Yamamoto, I owe you one." _What'm I __saying__?_

"Kari-chan, that's just what friends do, right?"

I'm shocked into silence.

Yamamoto continues, "But, you know Kari-chan, all that junk food isn't good for you!"

"Hunh?" I forcibly snap out of my trance, "The chips? I don't eat _that_ much junk food..."

"You had a lollipop and a chocolate bar for lunch today," Yamamoto teases.

"Oh...true, true. But I _do_ eat nutritional stuff too!"

"Like...?"

"Insta-noodles..." I mumble, and we laugh.

"But, Kari-chan, seriously, if you're parents aren't feeding you right, come over to my place."

I smile at his infectious smile, "Mmkay!"

_Crap! Am I _that_ obvious?_ Maybe I should change the moving date to the immediate future. I bite my lip. They can't catch on, or they'll find me. _They can't find me! _I'm_ supposed to find _them_!_

"Kari-chan? Hey, Kari-chan! Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah! Sorry, Yamamoto, I keep spacing out today. Just like in math..."

Yamamoto laughs, "Yeah, you had a pretty intense look on your face, too."

I grin. _Dammit. _What_ is wrong with you today, woman? Wake up! Wake up! __Snap out of it!_

"Hey, Kari-chan, which one's your house? I've never seen your house before."

I gesture vaguely at a house at the end of the street—one that never has its lights on, "It's that one."

"Over there?"

"Yeah."

"Are your parents home?" Yamamoto asks as I stop before the house.

I grimace before answering: "No."

"Oh...well, get some sleep then. I'll see you tomorrow! Oh! Wait, Kari-chan! I almost forgot!" He turns suddenly, as if remembering something. He digs through his bag and yells, "Catch!"

My mind processes this quickly, as it's classified as dangerous information.

Yamamoto Takeshi + "Catch" = Run for your life, Duck for cover, or Bring your hand up (and pray).

My hands come up instinctively, so all my thinking goes to waste. But, surprisingly, my hand is alright. I bring my hands up to my face to inspect the objects. It's some Onigiri and a box.

"Sorry...the Onigiri might be a little...squished," He laughs sheepishly, ruffling his hair.

I turn over the box in my hands as he continues to talk. "You can have the Pocky, too. I saw you staring at some back there!"

I feel tears forming. Blinking them away, I thank him quietly.

"Eh? I told you Kari-chan, it's nothing. It's fine, fine."

He doesn't seem to notice my tears. But that's good.

"Well, I'll see ya' tomorrow, then!"

I watch his retreating form until the night swallows him up, then I turn and walk down the street, towards the right house. I feel kind of bad for lying now. I pocket the Pocky, and steel myself. I can't let the guilt get to me. I could potentially be saving people like Yamamoto Takeshi with my lying.

If I lie to him, my chances of being discovered are even smaller, which gives me more time to search and get stronger. That means that I can defeat _them_ with as little bloodshed as possible which reduces the chances of innocent people like Yamamoto getting dragged into this whole mess.

So, my conclusion is: This Onigiri is good.

Squashed or not, to my shrivelled stomach...it's heavenly.

My eyes start to tear up, and I brush the tears away dismissively, with just a touch of anger. So..._unnecessary_.

I shouldn't have even accepted the offered Onigiri.

But...s_o...__good__..._

"Che!" I scoff, kicking at an empty pop can on the ground. It scuttles across the pavement, clanging against the tarmac metallically, and rolls to a stop at the curb.

"All that means is that now I owe him..." _Stupid Yamamoto Takeshi. _

_Stupid __me__..._

As I finish the Onigiri, I stuff the garbage in my pocket. I yawn, stretching a little, and nonchalantly peek with squinted eyes over my shoulder. I let my arms down, stuffing my hands back into my pockets.

Nope. Nobody around except for me.

But...I can't shake the feeling that I'm being...watched.

Meh.

My eyes wander around warily as I begin to hum a tuneless melody to cover up the unnerving silence. I keep walking, but as much as I deny it, I feel my footsteps quicken, paranoia rising. Then, something within me snaps, and I sprint for the front gate that's now within sight.

As soon as I reach it, the light of the streetlamp behind me wavers, and that split-second of darkness, I freeze, heart stopping for but a moment. When it flickers back on, I plough through my bag frantically, ripping my keys out with shaking hands and sweaty palms. I fumble with them, and finally yank the gate open. I slip in quickly and lock it tightly behind me, racing up the path.

I slam the front door, making sure to lock the deadbolt as well. Taking the stairs three at a time, I leap into bed, hiding beneath the covers. Panting, I feel my pulse gradually slow.

_Che! Did I really think that hiding under some blankets would stop someone who was after me?_

Then, I grin and laugh to myself.

_But...there _wasn't_ anything..._

I breathe a sigh, and force myself, still a bit shaky, out of bed to make my rounds.

Peeking into one room, I call: "Night Mom, night Dad." _Good—no dangers._

Moving on: "Night, sis." _Nothing to worry about there either._

I check the entire downstairs as well—every nook and cranny. No worries.

Only then do I deem it safe to take a shower. The warm water pounds into my shoulders, relaxing me, and washing away the last of the paranoia hanging over my head—actually, not _all._ The nagging voice in my head tells me that it wasn't all for naught—that I was right to be paranoid.

So I don't get myself all worked up again, I dry myself off, then jump back into bed to read through the newly-bought manga.

(I _was_ right—I had already read that volume of Nabari no Ou!)

Sometime in-between Naruto's epic battle, and Zero's gun slinging, and my half-hearted worrying of assassins, I fall asleep.

They can't find me.

They're not _supposed_ to find me.

That's _my_ job—to find _them_.

That's my sole purpose in life.

And I can't let anything sway me from that path.

_I_ am the rightful Vongola Decimo.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Once again, please review~


	4. Chance Meetings?

**Chapter 4**

**Chance Meetings?**

* * *

><p>"<em>Oh, Kariya. Instead of meeting this afternoon, the Kendo Club is meeting in the gym at lunchtime. Don't forget!"<em>

I grimace at the memory. I should've known something was up.

"Momo-senpai!" I whine, "You didn't tell me that this is what kohai have to do!"

He laughs, "You didn't ask, Kariya! I let you join the Kendo Club. And as a first-year, you should respect the wishes of your senpai. Now scrub! I've got a big match afterschool today."

He tosses another brush at me.

I catch it with a glare, "Isn't this the janitor's duty?"

"Well, then you're helping the janitors, aren't you?" He laughs again, and walks out of the gym, leaving me alone with the bucket of water, various mops, and the stench of sweaty armour.

I return to scrubbing the floorboards before I realize, "Why the hell'm I still doing this shit for him?"

I throw the cloth down and kick over a pile of the dirty equipment. "I'm not yer' fuckin' _maid_. Do yer' own damn laundry, you stupid Peach."

I storm out after him. _What a waste of my lunchtime!_

* * *

><p>As soon as school is out, I make my way to the rooftop. I've decided. <em>I'll face Hibari.<em>

I take the stairs two at a time, but as I reach the top of the stairs, I pause, hand on the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, I open it. I hold my breath, listening closely for any sign of movement—of life.

I sense no presence on the roof. _He's not here._

So I step out onto the rooftop, taking a look around. I can see the entire campus from here. There are still students taking their time in leaving the premises in their little crowds and cliques.

The breeze is liberating, cool on my cheek and playful as it whips through my hair. I close my eyes, spreading my arms out, spinning in a random circle, just revelling the sense of freedom that bubbles up within me for once.

How long has it been since I could last enjoy the wind like this?

_Too long…_

I've gotta' go back to the house. There's a couple looking to buy the couch and a couple of the other pieces of furniture. I spare one last glare around the rooftop, before heading back down the stairs.

Of course, I hadn't thought to check on top of the compound over the stairs.

* * *

><p><em>And of course I miss all the big events.<em>

The old couple have bought out most of the furniture in the house, and I'm wondering how they're going to transport it, when some movers appear.

Their sudden appearance startles me, and I watch them carefully—hundreds of pounds of rippling muscles and unreadable expressions. I have to grit my teeth at one point, and keep an uneasy eye on them as I chat up the old couple. They carry the furniture out into the moving van—nothing too suspicious, but these people give me a bad vibe.

Thuggies set me on edge.

And I wonder why the couple doesn't ask where my parents are. They seem so completely at ease that they, too, set me on edge—the old woman especially. Her eyes seem to sparkle in a weird fashion, and she smiles a little too knowingly at me when I say that my parents are often away.

I'm glad when they leave. I let out a long sigh, releasing the breath that I've been holding for the duration of their brief stay.

And then I remember Momo-senpai's words: _"I've got a big match afterschool today!"_

He'd sounded really pumped (and twice as cocky as usual). So, I decide to make the trek back to the school. If only to see—

_No._

I'm just bored. It's not like there's anything else to do.

No new chapters of my favourite manga have been released, the bookstore is closed, the manga cafés are always filled with bustling crowds, and these people that I've met are...interesting, almost.

_Yeah, that's it._

I meet the janitor at the gate. "Good...Good evening," I say.

"Good evening," he returns the greeting.

"Umm...mind if I slip in quickly?"

"I'm sorry, I was just locking up."

"I'm...waiting for my...friend. He's at baseball practice. And..." I put on my best little girl face, "It's getting dark out. Can I please just wait inside?"

"Uh...Okay. But, just stay here, alright?" The man opens the gate just a tad, and I glide past him.

I rock back and forth on my feet, waiting for him to walk away. When his whistling fades into silence, I run towards the gym. _I highly doubt that anyone's still here, but oh well, it's worth a shot._

"Oh, hello there, Asunake-san!" Two guys jog up to me; one waves.

"Ne? Oh...heya. Where's everybody?"

"The fight was over a few hours ago. Captain Mochida lost!"

"...Momo-senpai lost? To who?"

"He challenged Dame-Tsuna to a rigged match because he made Sasagawa-san cry!"

"And Sawada went crazy, tore off his clothes and ripped all of Captain's hair out!"

_Sawada...made Kyoko cry? Momo-senpai lost to...__Sawada__? And __**Sawada **__went Rambo on Momo-senpai?_

"...Wow." _Of all things...why rip out his hair?_

We stand in awkward silence as we look for something to say.

"Umm...Captain Mochida's still unconscious back there."

"Yeah! We're heading back now! Eh...See you, Asunake-san!"

The two run off, and I'm left to breathe out a relieved sigh.

_Damn awkward turtles._

I open the gym door a crack, then close it behind me.

"Tsk...They didn't lie. I can't believe they left you lying here, Momo-senpai. You know, you look incredibly stupid lying there like that. Hello...? Oh, right. You're still unconscious."

I sit down with a huff. Since I'm here, I might as well stay until he wakes up, if not only to taunt him.

"Momo-senpai. You're a loser," I grin at his immobile body, "Maybe if you weren't such a snob, and maybe if you were nicer to Kyoko, then maybe Sawada wouldn't have kicked your ass so hard."

Mochida groans, and I continue with my aggravation, "Momo-senpai, with that humiliating defeat, I think Kyoko hates you. Did you know that she found out that you rigged it? Such a dishonourable senpai."

His eyes shoot open at the mention of Kyoko.

"Oh...We have movement. Good morning, Momo-senpai~!"

"Nngh..." He sits up, and I hover over him, grinning at his pained face. "What happened? Where'd everybody go?"

"They left already. We should go soon before Hibari kicks us out. You got your ass handed to you by Sawada. I wish I could've seen that. Momo-senpai, you're too cocky for your own good."

"Sawada?"

"Yup. It's a good thing you were humbled by him, y'know. Because, obviously, you hadn't learned anything from your previous defeat to me."

"...'Twas a tie."

"Nope, nope. From what I heard, it was a humiliating defeat at the hands of Dame-Tsuna, our new resident Pants-man."

"I meant—" He glares at me, and my smile disappears, replaced by a blank look.

"Hey, Captain," I say, switching tactics, "I quit. This kohai is going on strike. I don't like my working conditions."

Mochida is silent.

I stand, tilting my head slightly to study him, "And I think they were exaggerating. He only ripped out a little chunk of your hair."

"_What?_" He cries.

I chuckle, leaving the gym.

* * *

><p>"Ossu! What're you doing here again, Kari?"<p>

"Oh, heya Yamamoto. I was...cleaning up after Momo-senpai," I grimace.

He chuckles, "Is he alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. He's all good..." I pause, then add, "I wish I could've seen Sawada fight him."

"Yeah. Tsuna was pretty intense."

"Yeah, Dame-Tsuna must've been, because Momo-senpai," I lower my voice, "Was _cheating_, too."

Yamamoto shrugs, "Well, they're both okay, so that's good."

I shrug as well.

"How are you, Kari?"

"Ne...? I'm good," I struggle to look for something to say. "Uh...why were you staying afterschool today?"

He grimaces, "Baseball practice today."

"Oh. I see. Yamamoto, you must really..." I search for the right words, "...Love baseball."

"Ah! I do. What about you, Kari? You into Kendo?"

"...Eh. Kinda', sorta', not really. I just..."

"...Wanted to see what it was like?" Yamamoto supplies.

"Yeah!" I smile. _Whew. A close one. Damn. I need to learn how to be one of those smooth-talking crime lords like on TV._

"And how is that going?" Yamamoto prompts.

"...Eh..." I look away, putting my hands in my pockets, "I um...Quit."

"Quit? Why?" Yamamoto looks concerned, but he doesn't jump to conclusions.

"...I just...wasn't that interested in it, is all, I guess."

"Oh. Well, if that's the case, then maybe you should try something else. What other things do you like, Kari-chan?"

I look up sharply at the endearment, but I force myself to calm down and take it in stride, "Umm...Well...I can't say I really enjoy anything. I mean, it's all fun...but nothing really...sticks out to me."

"Really? Anything at all?"

"...Um...Well," I pause in my speech, regarding him skeptically, "You'll just think I'm weird."

"Of course I will. The weirdest people are the best, don't you think?"

I roll my eyes, but smile anyway as he laughs lightly.

"...Well, I like...watching people. I find people...interesting. Everyone's got their quirks, and it's pretty easy to figure out a person just by observing them."

Yamamoto laughs lightly again, "See? That wasn't so bad, now, was it? And that's not even that weird. Wait 'til I tell you about what my old man and me used to do..."

* * *

><p>"We have a new exchange student who was studying overseas in Italy. His name is Gokudera Hayato."<p>

The girls start giggling and whispering. I look him over disinterestedly. _Yeah, he's pretty hot. The badass type. Seen them all before._

Wait.

_Italy?_

My eyes flit up at the mention of Italy.

I do a double take—the messy hair, the irritated scowl, the slouch, and my eyes dart around the room. That's never a good sign.

_Sensei said he was from Italy._

Italy + Thug-like appearance = Not good.

"Now Gokudera-kun, your seat is—Gokudera-kun?"

I stiffen as he makes a beeline for me. But he turns at the last moment, and kicks Sawada's desk over. I watch with dark eyes. Should I feel relieved? Angry?

I'm confused. That's what.

_Does he know Sawada? How the hell did __Sawada__ piss him off?_

_Why's Sawada, of all people, garnering so much attention lately?_

Well, I've got bigger fish to fry.

Sawada shakily gets back up, and Gokudera heads to his seat at the front of the class. I don't even know who he is, but his sudden attack on Sawada makes me angry.

_Who does he think he is?_

* * *

><p>Lunch is boring again, so I sneak up to the rooftop. It's so peaceful compared to the rest of the school—the rest of the <em>world<em>.

I shake my head, letting the wind breeze through my hair. _So nice..._

_Damn. It's only _one_ rooftop in the whole wide world..._

I sigh, spinning around to clear my head of the intruding thoughts, and face the doorway that I just came out of. I freeze, as if caught in the act.

On top of the little structure, sits Hibari. He watches me, somehow curious and disinterested at the same time. His lips curve up into a smirk, "Back for more, herbivore?"

"...Herbivore?" I study him as he stands to his full height. Because his attitude really rubs me the wrong way, I reply cheekily, "I assure you, Hibari, that I'm a vegetarian, save for beef, pork, fried chicken, eel and anything else found in sushi."

His grey eyes narrow. _What kind of Asian has eyes that shade of grey?_

"I'll eat anything really..." I continue, "Except for maybe eggs. Eggs and filets. I actually don't really like vegetables. So I guess I'm pretty much a carnivore." I glance at him, then add, "Fried tofu is best, though."

"Shut up. You're noisy." He says in a tone that makes me automatically comply. _Wow. Such a fierce intimidation factor..._

He leaps down, landing neatly, standing slowly and stalks up to me. I watch, as if in a trance at his fluid, almost _predatory,_ movements, and manage to find my voice after a few tries, "At—at any rate, I didn't come here looking for a fight. I just wanted to be outside for a bit. I didn't want to fight you right now. At least...not yet, anyway."

He pauses, circling me once. He stops before me again, studying me closely. I quash the urge to shrink back from his steely gaze, and when he speaks, I flinch a little.

"When?" He breathes.

"...Ne?" Strangely, I don't fumble for words around him—rather, my brain seems to give up altogether on trying to link sentences together.

He grows impatient—I can see his brow furrow slightly—He, on the other hand, is itching for a fight. He leans back a little, giving me some much-needed space to take in air, "Answer me, or I'll bite you to death here and now."

"..." I cock my head, frowning, "Bite me, and I'll bite you."

He stiffens for a moment, and something glints in his eyes. He opens his mouth—

—And the door bursts open, a group of laughing males tumbling out.

Hibari's gaze darkens, and he approaches them, whipping his tonfas out, "Crowding...in front of me?"

They look up fearfully at the head prefect.

"H-H-Hibari-san!"

"We're sorry!"

"Lunchtime is almost over. Trying to skip out on your clean-up duties, I see."

They scramble backwards, onto their feet, stumbling over each other in a mumbling mess of apologies and excuses.

He makes a languid lunge towards them, "Scram, herbivores."

They yelp, and race back down the stairs.

He turns back to me, as if just remembering that I'm technically neglecting my tidying duty as well. _(Just as I've just remembered as well...)_

"Ne, ne. I'll fight you some other time, Hibari. Later!" I make my escape after the boys.

"Hn. You're an herbivore in the guise of a carnivore."

* * *

><p>I pass the same guys in the hallway, and they seem to have associated me with Hibari, because they cry out in surprise and press themselves against the walls to allow me to pass when they see me striding towards them. While I appreciate the fact that I can walk through the hall without obstructions, it also annoys me. I shake my head. His intimidation factor has rubbed off on me.<p>

_Am I not intimidating enough by myself?_

I walk into the classroom. The rest of the students are just finishing their cleaning duties, and if any of them noticed that I was gone, they don't say anything.

Sawada plunks himself down in his seat, slouching over with a grand sigh.

"Oh yes! That's right! Hey, Sawada," I stop in front of his desk with a smile.

"E-Eh, Kariya-san?"

I smirk, leaning in closer to whisper, "I heard you beat up Mochida."

"HIIEEEE!" He automatically backs up before I've said anything, falling out of his chair.

"Juudaime!" Gokudera leaps in front of him, glaring at me.

_Ne? _I do a double take, scrutinizing him. _Now he's..._defending_ Sawada? That was one _long_ lunch break, wasn't it?_

Once again, I've obviously missed out on something pretty big. What caused this change of heart? This..._'face-heel-turn'_. **[1]**

He's so close that I can smell him. It's funny too, because he's shorter than me. I give him a condescending smile, "Gokudera, right? You know, Hibari won't like it that you're smoking on school property."

"Che!"

"I can smell the cigarette smoke on you," I wrinkle my nose, "It's bad for you, too."

"Like fuck I care! Stay away from Juudaime!"

_There's that word again. Dammit. What's that word mean? 'Ju-daime'. 'Daime' is a title... And 'Ju' means...Ah!_

"Sawada! You didn't tell me that you were Confucian!" **[2]**

"E-Eh? ...I didn't know either..." Sawada moans.

"So what if he is? Do you have a problem with that?"

I shrug, "To each his own, I guess."

He steps even closer to me growling in a dangerous tone, "Are you mocking Juudaime?"

_What's his problem? I never said anything of the sort._ "Why would I? I've got no reason to make fun of Sawada."

"Don't lie, you fucking whore!"

"...What did you call me?" I growl.

"I said—"

"I heard you perfectly fine the first time, you motherfucker."

His eyes narrow, and he leaps at me.

"HIIEEEE! Gokudera-kun, Kariya-san, stop!"

"Maa, maa. Hey. Calm down, you two."

"Move, Yamamoto!" I growl at the boy who's edged his way in-between the two of us.

"Gokudera-kun..." Sawada pleads.

The rest of the class stares at us, not knowing what to do.

The door slides open just as the bell rings. Sensei doesn't sound too pleased, "Why's everybody up? Please, take your seats."

Gokudera calms down at Sawada's request, and stalks over to his desk, not before shouldering his way past me though. I return the favour, walking over to my own desk. Yamamoto pats me on the head as he takes his seat as well.

And so begins my Stormy relationship with Gokudera Hayato, the man with the perpetual PMS.

* * *

><p>They say that everyday's a new day; that you should turn over a new leaf.<p>

I'm obviously not a believer. I don't usually hold grudges. I'll make an exception for this one, though. I glare around the room. Yes, I'm still angry. _Good. That Gokudera bastard's not here._

But, there's also another person missing—Yamamoto Takeshi.

"Yamamoto's going to jump off of the roof!"

_Speak of the devil, wait—_

"What?" I look up sharply at the boy who's just come barging in.

"Yamamoto from our class?"

"That's not funny," A girl reprimands.

"Yeah," They agree, "There are good pranks and bad pranks, y'know."

"No!" The boy retorts, "When he stayed afterschool practising yesterday, he went too far and broke his arm."

I can only stare in amazement. _Are we talking about the same Yamamoto Takeshi here?_

The bright-eyed, cheery baseball player?

The one with the reassuring smile?

He's always so optimistic though...It's like nothing can bring him down.

He's so friendly; he talks to everybody.

He would talk with me, yes. But it would always be about _me_. He'd be prompting _me_ for answers, consoling _me_, asking _me_, talking about _me._

But I never once asked him how he was doing with baseball. I never once asked him about _him_.

_What a great..._friend_ I am._

Maybe that's why people like me are better off without friends.

In _our_ world, you can't depend on anybody. The only one you can really trust is yourself.

Before I know it, everyone's stampeded out of the room. I dash up the stairs after them. The other students are all crowded around, and I can't see over them.

Over the din, I can make out a voice—Sawada. He sounds like he's trying to dissuade Yamamoto, "—So I can't understand your feelings."

...I think I just took it out of context...but that sounded like a rejection to a confession in a Shojo manga...but this is more like Shonen-Ai...

"Wait, Tsuna!"

...Totally some Sho—

There's the sound of metal links tearing, and screaming, and screaming, and screaming. I gasp in horror then turn tail and run back down the stairs. The door slams shut a little too loudly behind me, but I don't care.

I skid around the corner, sprinting out into the courtyard.

Relief floods into my chest, as I stare at the two of them, panting in a heap on the ground. My knees feel weak, but I keep a strong grip on the stone wall, and a glare on my face.

_Safe..._

"I don't know what I was thinking...Nothing good comes of my idiocy..." Yamamoto says sheepishly.

"Damn right, you idiot!" I bark, and make my way back to class.

Yamamoto laughs because he knows that he's been forgiven. _That, or he truly _is_ an idiot._

I'm so shaken up—so _angry_—that I can't even comment on the fact that Tsuna in nothing but his boxers just wasn't helping their case.

* * *

><p>Tsuna doesn't return to class until lunch, after running home to find his spare uniform.<p>

He finds most of the class crowded around Yamamoto, and all are present save for Gokudera-kun and Kariya-san.

"Reborn! What're you doing here? And why're you interrogating Kyoko-chan?"

The hitman tutor shoots him a look _("HIIEE!")_, but otherwise ignores him.

The Italian turns his attention back onto her, "Kyoko...What do you know of a girl named Asunake Kariya?"

"Asunake...Kariya...?" She repeats, wide-eyed.

"Eh," Reborn nods.

"Well...she moved here a while ago, back when we were in elementary. She's nice, and friendly, on good terms with everybody—I heard that she even talks with Hibari-san!" Kyoko tilts her head curiously at Reborn.

Tsuna waves his arms, "What's the point of this, Reborn? Kariya's just a regular student!"

"Hmm..." Reborn ignores the flailing of the brunet once again, "How does she do in school? Who does she talk to?"

"Erm...I heard that she studied abroad, so she's pretty good in English, although her Japanese is not as good. She's a pretty average student. And, like I said, she's friends with everybody."

"Hmm..."

"But..." Kyoko falters, and Reborn looks at her, as if to say 'go on', "Kari-chan doesn't seem to be particularly _close_ to anyone. It's as if the closer we get to her, the farther away she becomes. But...if anyone knows anything about her, it would be Yamamoto-kun."

"Alright. Thanks, Kyoko-chan," Tsuna says hurriedly, and ushers Reborn out, remembering to wave at Kyoko.

Reborn sits on Tsuna's shoulder, so deep in thought that he doesn't immediately smite him for his insolence. _Asunake Kariya...that __name__..._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**[1] **Any TV tropers out there? ;)

**[2]** I just typed 'ju' in on a romaji translator, and that's what I got...

Kariya and Mochida interactions really remind me of Fran and Bel...

For those of you far enough into the anime/manga will know exactly why Gokudera was so offended by Kariya's cursing. Personally, I think most of us would be too, if we really cared about the meaning behind the words. So _big_ no-no there, Kariya. Tsk, tsk!

Oh, and please review!


	5. Verisimilitude

**Chapter 5**

**Verisimilitude**

* * *

><p>One entire week has passed since Yamamoto's incident on the roof.<p>

He sure does bounce back quickly. He's over that bout of depression as easy as…yeah, just very easily. _Idiotically_ easily.

And it turns out that his arm wasn't actually broken. His wrist was sprained, and would have to be kept in a sling for a bit.

_Che._

As for that jerk Gokudera, well, we're still on…not-friendly terms. However, we both seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement that we would not drag Sawada into our quarrels. We would maintain a tense, civil front for the sake of Sawada's sanity, and Yamamoto's lack thereof.

At least things are calmer now. _As is expected of the calm before a Storm, ne?_

But, I _had_ to adjust to circumstances. One has to if they're placed in a group with Dame-Tsuna, that jerk Gokudera and a happy-go-lucky suicidal baseball nut.

Well, we were put into groups for the research project on that research materials that I had prepared for science class a while back came into use that day after we settled back into class.

Heh. Well, it's now today, a day before the actual project is due, and this is totally characteristic of them. With our project due tomorrow, and even with my prior..._research_, our group doesn't even have a topic yet. Sure, our haphazard group did do _some_ discussion in class...but we never really got anything substantial done. Stupid boys, always getting sidetracked.

_Well, I'm one to talk..._

"Kari-chan? Kari-chan, is that okay?"

"Hrm?" I blink. They're all staring at me. I gather myself, trying to get back into the conversation, "Sorry...what?"

"Can we come over to your house to work on the project?"

That snaps me to complete attention, "I—er...Well, you see...the thing is...my...parents have guests over today!" I finish lamely, "So...yeah."

"We won't be too much trouble..."

"But..."

A hole appears in our lab table, and a platform rises up. I jump back in surprise.

"R-Reborn!" Tsuna yells.

"Ciaossu." My blood runs cold. Did he just say..._Reborn?_

I stare at the suited baby standing on the platform emerging from our lab table. I take in the black fedora and the green lizard, and the curly sideburns.

My eyes flick around the room, marking the exits—the door is currently blocked by a stocky boy, and the windows...well, that's a gamble considering the fact that we're on the 3rd floor._ I have no choice then._

My hand wraps around the ring on the chain around my neck, and I force myself to breathe—to breathe and sit down. How...How would a normal girl act? How would, say...Kyoko act?

I take my seat again, meeting Reborn's eyes. He just seems curious, like he hasn't recognized me _yet_.

I try and make myself into Kyoko, and respond with a chipper voice. "Hiya! Who're you? And how'd you just rise up outta' the table?"

He looks at me, and I feel the smile freeze on my face. Kyoko wouldn't have been so observant, or so nosy.

But Reborn just smiles—or was that a smirk?

"Hm."

CRAP! CRAP! CRAP! He totally knows!

CRAP! FUCK! CRAP!

"I'm Reborn," He pauses, gauging my reaction before continuing, "Tsuna's tutor."

I slap myself mentally. _Getcher' damn act together woman! This is do or die!_

"I'll be coming along as well. I'll make sure that they won't bother your family."

"I-uh..." I can't respond. My brain has frozen completely. Such is an encounter with the legendary Reborn—I've been cornered—and in no less than a few sentences.

It's too fishy for me to refuse now, so it's best to just give in, "That's okay then...I guess..." I manage a smile.

But even I can tell—too little, too late.

"Then, we'll see you afterschool," Reborn smirks, pulling his fedora down to shadow his eyes and the platform sinks back into the table, desk returning to its original state.

I zone out for the rest of the period. Well, not really—just long enough for me to decide that I'm leaving. _Now_. It's too risky to stay in Namimori any longer.

I'm lucky—after selling the furniture (_that wasn't mine_) I have barely enough money for a flight to London.

"Oi! Woman! Juudaime was talking to you!"

"Hunh?" I look over at them. Indeed; they're all staring at me...once again.

"G-Gokudera-kun..." Sawada tries to calm him down.

"Maa, maa...She just spaced out for a moment," Yamamoto tries to assuage things.

I sigh, forcing a tired smile, "Sorry, sorry!"

The bell rings. _Thank you._

"Later guys!" I stuff everything into my bag, and I'm off.

I lean against the wall outside of the classroom. No...I can't leave today. Even if there's no hope for me anyway, leaving now would just confirm Reborn's suspicion, no..._knowledge_. I shake my head, and push myself off the wall, striding confidently down the stairs, and into the courtyard, arms stiff at my sides, fingers clenched tightly into fists.

It's lunchtime again...Meh. Lunchtime today means that I'm taking the rest of the day off. I need the rest of the day to get ready, to prepare the entire house for their visit.

I need to refurbish the house.

* * *

><p>Hibari watches from the rooftop, leaning against the fence, as the girl strides into the courtyard. She looks both ways, then runs to the gate, unlatching it.<p>

She breathes a sigh, and glances over her shoulder once before slinking off school property. She _even makes eye-contact with the prefect._ He could almost say that she _smiled_ up at him, before continuing in her rule-breaking.

_That girl is up to no good...again. _Hibari looks up to the sky. _No matter._

He's found his excuse for biting her to death—later of course.

* * *

><p>I hurry into the house, tripping over steps and slamming doors. I kick my shoes off in a frantic tangle of legs, arms and schoolbag. I manage to throw them over my shoulder before sprinting up the stairs. I throw the door open, breathing heavily for a moment, eyes scanning the room.<p>

My laptop and iPod charger are propped against the wall. The house is completely bare, save for those few items. I fall to my knees, and turn the laptop on, tapping my fingers impatiently and glancing around anxiously as I wait for the device to boot up.

I hastily Google pictures of an average household. Selecting a few pictures at random, I fumble with the plug of my laptop. Then, exasperated, I yank the cord roughly out of the socket, throwing the wire down and shaking the rest of its tangles off of my arm.

I tuck the computer underneath my arm before running downstairs. Time to recreate the images.

I sit cross-legged in the empty expanse of what should be a cozy den. Closing my eyes, I concentrate. When I open them again, I find that, as I expected, a couch with cashmere coverings has appeared. A Persian rug covers the cherry bay hardwood floors.

I get up, stretching. Walk into the kitchen, I lean against the doorframe for a moment, catching my breath. I place my laptop down on the empty counter, and turn around slowly. When I make a full circle, a refrigerator has appeared, as well as a microwave, and various kitchen appliances have arranged themselves around the room.

_Crap. I don't have any food._

I wave my hand offhandedly, and a bowl of fruit materializes, with artistic arrays of varying types of fruit. I chuckle. _When did I start being an aesthetic pleaser?_

I pick an apple up from the bowl, weighing its non-existent weight in my hands. Then I wind my arm and throw it at the wall. It explodes into wisps of dust as it makes impact with the wall, and disappears.

I smile, and feel the metaphysical weight, equivalent to the weight of an actual fruit, is lifted from my head. The pressure has lessened, but the crushing weight is still there, and it's only going to get worse from here. But, hey, it's working, ne?

_Next!_

Curtains adorn the lonely windows. A TV, coffee table, paintings—_maybe I'm going a bit overboard with this…_

But, I'd better lay it on thick, because it _is_ Reborn. Even if he can see right through them, it…_Screw this! I just have something to prove, alright?_

I run up the stairs, using the banister to speed my ascent.

I can't worry about it right now. I don't have time—I can't _afford_ to waste time on things like that right now.

_When I pull this off, then maybe I can start stressing. Stressing over if (__when__) they find me—NO! _I'll_be the one to find—_

I growl, throwing the door open a bit (_very_) forcefully, and surprisingly, seeing the completely bare room is enough to defuse the anger, banishing the thought to the back of my mind; at least for the moment.

It's the room that I was using, and previously living in. I restore it to exactly what it was like before the furniture was sold. I even complete it with an unmade bed, with papers and clothes strewn all over the desk and floor. Pleased, I move onto the adjacent room. For a moment, I'm faced with a mental block.

_What does a little sister's room look like?_ I shrug. _Let's stick with clichés, then, shall we?_

I hold my hand out, brandishing my illusionary paintbrush, and splatter pastel pink all over the pristine white walls. Let's go with the Pink Princess theme. I add in a tiny bed with Princess Barbie covers, and plenty of unicorns and various other stuffed animals. Bunnies, hearts, sparkles, and pink, _**pink**_, _**pink**_.

I back out, closing the door gently, somewhat tenderly, pleased with my creation.

I head over to the master suite; decorating with an earth theme—mint green walls, and a great oak cabinet. I lean through the illusion of the cabinet, against the wall. I'm plunged into darkness—granted a view of the false inside of the wood. Breathing hard from the strain of maintaining the great quantity and detail of the illusions, I smile.

Now, for the very last step:

_To complete the illusion of a tranquil familial setting._

I breathe a sigh, and straighten up as I hear shuffles and conversation from downstairs. I freeze as the black insides of the dresser are replaced with an increasingly bright light. I squeeze my eyes shut, shielding my face with my arms. And not a moment too soon.

In that one moment, many things happened. My eyes fly open, alert as a deadly presence surrounds me—_surrounds me_—but it's distinctly only _one_ individual. The presence flies at me, and their momentum knocks me onto the floor.

I feel the energy around me fluctuate as my concentration is broken. I lash out at my assailant, who's pinning me down.

I'm rolled onto my stomach as something wraps itself around my wrists, binding them together. I struggle in vain as my assailant tightens the ropes.

_Dammit! _I was distracted. I got caught up in the glory of civilian life. I let my guard down. And now I'll pay the price for my foolishness.

I'm thrown against the wall roughly. I thrash around, trying to create some distance, trying futilely to get away. I manage to scramble up in my panic, and receive a knee to the stomach, effectively rendering me silent and gasping for air. A fist drives into my throat, and I choke, rolling away, white spots appearing in my vision, like TV static.

_Useless…_

There's a ring of metal as my attacker grabs the ring on the chain around my neck. They tense, as if to yank it—

"_**No!**_" I cry.

There's an explosion and extreme heat surrounds me. My aggressor is thrown _way_ out of my sensory range with a tinkle of breaking glass, and I lie, panting, and coughing. The white spots disappear, and there's a roar in my head. It's blurring my senses and my thought process into an indiscernible sequence of pain, irritating noise, and pink fluffy unicorns. **[1]**

There's a loud noise that won't seem to fade…And that smell. _Gas…_

I manage to turn my head weakly. The roar, and the heat…the house is in flames. Smoke floods into the room in an ashy cloud that clots my lungs and inhibits my cognitive ability.

"Kariya!" Pounding footsteps.

"D…D…a…" _Dad…_

"Kariya! C'mon! We have to get out of here! Get up! Let's go!"

I croak, arm reaching out to his figure that's becoming blurred in my vision by tears—induced by the smoke.

_"_**_G-Get away!_**_"_ My voice cracks, leaping up an octave that grates like ragged razorblades on my bloody throat.

The surprised look on his face is amazing—idiotically frozen in time…as the flaming oak dresser crashes down on him, followed up by a blazing beam that breaks off from the fast-weakening ceiling.

_No matter how convenient illusions are..._

_**...they're not real.**_

He explodes into little particles of dust that sparkle in the firelight; they tremor mesmerizingly in the heated air before fading. The fire continues to roar around me.

_**That**__ is __Reality__…_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**[1]** Has anyone watched "Pink Fluffy Unicorns" on Youtube? If not. GO. It's even epic-er when you imagine an entire guitar class playing this/singing along. x)

Moving on, question for you all: What do you think Kariya's flame-attribute is?

Thank you for reading and please review~!


	6. Like a House on Fire

**Chapter 6**

**Like a House on Fire**

* * *

><p>"C-c...an't..."<p>

I can't..._move_. I lie, sprawled out on the floor, cringing as something crashes down somewhere.

The smoke and roar of the flames are making me spout gibberish-like nonsensical rubbish. I mutter little riddles made up of broken words with equally broken vocal chords to myself.

Everything's so bright, so light, like I'm floating red...Red fire, curling claws of searing pain.

My vision blurs and clears, blurs and fades in around the edges. I'm scarily calm. Smoke circles around in aimless, whimsical wisps in circles circling upwards towards the ceiling. Twirling upwards.

_Higher...and higher..._

I drag my arm to my face, and bite down on the meat of my palm, grinding my teeth down. Tears spring to my eyes, and it's as if the spell is broken. My head spins as I push myself up, and automatically my eyes burn with tears.

Vivid—blurred—scarlet—crimson—carmine—_blood_.

_No...__No__._

I collapse again, coughing wildly_. The smoke, dammit!_ I swipe at my eyes, blinking the smoke-induced tears away.

The fire is a vivid shade that's _alive_, somehow. Not at all like an ordinary campfire—marshmallows. _Marshmallows?_

I watch, entranced as the scornful flames move at a languid pace towards me.

Fire playing with fire—_dancing_.

"_Come dance with me, Kariya!"_

"T-Ta...n...ya..."

The flames are _pretty_...

* * *

><p>"I was pretty sure it was <em>that<em> house," Yamamoto points at the building, "That's what she said when I walked her home last week."

"Che. But she wrote down another address, baseball idiot!" Gokudera waves the slip of paper in his face.

Tsuna sighs, adjusting the bag on his shoulder, "Ne, Reborn. I'm telling you, Kariya-san's just a normal student. She's not involved with the mafia!"

Reborn, sitting on Yamamoto's shoulder, doesn't reply, which immediately puts Tsuna into Panic Mode.

They come to a stop in front of a house.

"It should be this one, Juudaime..."

"You'll see, Reborn, she's just an average girl. She's—"

"_**G-Get away!**__"_ A hoarse scream alerts them.

"—normal...right?" Tsuna finishes weakly, letting go of all the bleak hope he'd been so desperately grasping onto. Was there no one in his life that was normal?

Following this new definition of normal, cue the mother of all explosions that emphasizes his point. They cringe, watching as the flames begin to spit out from the windows, engulfing the roof, and licks up at the walls, consuming the house.

"K-Kariya-san's in there!" Tsuna yells.

"We have to get her out!" Yamamoto responds first, snapping into action.

"But-But..." Tsuna starts forward.

Reborn leaps onto Tsuna's head, crossing his arms grimly, "Tsuna. Calm down."

"Don't worry! Leave it to us, Juudaime!"

Yamamoto reaches out to open the gate, "Eh? It's locked!"

"Che!" Gokudera quickly swings himself over the cast iron gate.

Yamamoto struggles a bit with his arm still in the sling. Gokudera turns back, unlatching it, and throws the gate open for him. Gokudera scowls as Yamamoto laughs, thanking him.

The two run up the path, as Tsuna watches worriedly.

"I checked the out the address that Kariya gave you. She apparently lives here with her mother, father and younger sister."

"Eh?"

* * *

><p>"The front door's locked too," Yamamoto announces.<p>

Gokudera pushes him out of the way, whipping out a handful of dynamite.

_Bombed._

"Maa...Gokudera...don't you think that was overkill?" The door is blown off its hinges, and sent flying into the house.

"This place is done for, anyway."

They spring back quickly as the flames roar towards the new source of oxygen.

Gokudera lights a few more sticks of dynamite before tossing them in, yelling to the other boy, "When they detonate, we go!"

"Okay!"

The explosion expels the oxygen from the immediate area, and the flames die down temporarily. "Move!"

The two of them rush in, calling out for her.

"Kari-chan! Kari-chan! Where are you?"

"Oi! Woman!"

They glance around wildly, arms raised to ward off smoke.

"Go check upstairs!" Yamamoto yells over the roaring of the flames.

For once, Gokudera agrees, "Aah." He takes the stairs two at a time, but gingerly—they might give out at any given moment. He swings himself onto the landing, and his gaze sweeps the hallway.

The fire crackles and spits searing ashes at him. He growls as they singe him. His gaze lands on the first door, and he grabs the handle—

Then jumps back, shaking his hand with a string of curses. The metal's at a scorching degree.

Angrily, he kicks the door down, and leaps to the side to let the back-draft in so he's not roasted on contact. He steps forward when all he's met with is an orange flickering against the opposite wall.

He freezes in the doorway, "W-What—?"

* * *

><p>Yamamoto stops at the kitchen door.<p>

Sitting calmly at the table is a middle-aged woman. She's reading a magazine, totally at ease, as if she weren't currently amid a blazing house on the verge of collapse.

"Uh...Asunake-san?"

"Ano?" she looks up, smiling, and mildly surprised, "Oh, hello! You must be one of Kariya's friends!"

She has a kind face.

"Asunake-san! You have to get out of here! The house is gonna' burn down!"

* * *

><p>"Oi! What're you still doing here! Get out of here! The house is on fire! Where the hell is your sister?"<p>

"What's your problem?" the girl glares at him.

Gokudera scoffs throwing his hands up in exasperation, "I don't have time for this!"

He reaches out to grab her wrist.

* * *

><p>Yamamoto stares, then tries again, but is met with much the same results.<p>

His hand passes through her.

The woman smiles sadly, "Kariya breathed life into these illusions. But she lacks the power to give us physical form."

* * *

><p>"W-What!"<p>

The furniture begins to burn as well. The flaming cabinet tips, and falls over. Gokudera raises his arms above his head, but nothing happens. He blinks.

He's standing..._through_ the cabinet...?

It slowly disappears around him.

The young girl fades in and out, flickering like the flames that he can now see through her torso.

"Now go save Sister!"

"A-Aah."

"Gokudera!"

He turns to face Yamamoto leaps up the stairs, a laptop tucked into his sling.

Gokudera looks back, and the girl gives one last knowing smile, and ceases to exist.

He nods grimly, then runs into the next room. Seeing Yamamoto already there, he moves onto the last room, but not before Yamamoto throws a wet rag at him. He places it over his mouth and nose, blocking out the smoke.

He manages a wry smile into the towel—although it's not cigarette smoke, he still finds it ironic.

He runs into the master suite. Sure enough, the illusions there are flickering in and out of existence as well.

Lying half-concealed beneath the remains of the smouldering door is Kariya. Gokudera pulls her out, and drops the glowing door back down, shaking his burned hand.

He scowls, and quickly removes the rag from his face, tying it around her head with a rough knot. He heaves her up and throws her over his shoulder, but not without a quick complaint, "Dammit, you're heavy."

"Gokudera!

"Baseball-idiot! Let's go! I've got her!"

"Alright, I have her stuff! Let's go!"

* * *

><p>Through the haze of smoke and fading consciousness, I hear voices. A figure is silhouetted by the blaze, and I'm thrown over someone's shoulder.<p>

A damp cloth is held over my nose and mouth.

Then the person's on the move again.

Wait...

What...?

...

_Hunh._

...

* * *

><p>"Gokudera-kun! Yamamoto!" Tsuna runs to meet them.<p>

They remove the rags, and Gokudera coughs a little.

"Gokudera-kun! Are you okay?"

Gokudera straightens up quickly so as not to worry him, "I'm okay, Juudaime!"

"What about Kariya-san?"

"She should be fine. She didn't breathe in _too_ much smoke, I don't think..." Yamamoto replies.

"We should leave before the police arrive," Reborn says. He eyes the house as the roof caves in with a crystalline crash of glass panes smashing against porcelain tiles.

"Why haven't the neighbours called the police yet?" Tsuna's eyes are wide with disbelief.

Gokudera growls, glaring back at the fire that's consuming everything that's left, "Not everyone is as great as you are, Juudaime..."

"We should get her somewhere safe," Yamamoto says, "And treat Gokudera's hands too."

"My hands are fine," Gokudera glowers.

"Let's all go to Tsuna's house, then," Reborn decides, defusing the soon-to-be one-sided argument.

"Eh? Reborn! You can't just—"

"Be quiet, Tsuna," Reborn's aura intensifies, and Tsuna desists with a squeak.

"I'll carry her," Yamamoto offers.

Gokudera shoots him a withering glare, though the effect is wasted on the selectively-oblivious boy, "Are you stupid? Your arm's in a sling, and you're carrying a—what the hell is that?"

"Oh, this? Haha! It's her laptop, and iPod. She left her laptop on. She was Google-ing pictures of these really fancy houses. Is _that_ what we were doing for science?"

Gokudera yells, "How the hell should _I_ know! Juudaime decides what the topic is!" He gives a little hop, adjusting her prone body on his back, and stomps away in a huff.

The others catch up to him, and they begin their trek.

Gokudera and Yamamoto (though, mostly Yamamoto) describe what had happened in the house to Reborn.

"Illusions?" the baby hitman repeats, playing around with the word, as if testing it out.

"Yeah, and they disappeared."

"Did they have a physical form?"

"No, my hand went right through her!"

"Hmm."

There's a small explosion behind them, and the house coughs up a miniature fireball in its death throes.

An ambulance and fire truck speed past them. They quicken their pace.

"I guess this means we don't have to hand our project in tomorrow, does it?" Tsuna surmises.

* * *

><p><em>Reborn...<em>

That was Reborn...He was there.

_Yeah..._

**Wait**. He said...He said he was Sawada's tutor...ne?

_He did..._

A hitman tutor? What for? Unless—!

_It can't be!_

I've heard that the Vongola Nono is looking for a successor.

_No way!_

Sawada Tsunayoshi—The Vongola Decimo? Dame-Tsuna, the boss of the most powerful Famiglia in the world?

_You're kidding me._

Not only is that hard to believe...but that fact makes my job of assassinating the Decimo all the more difficult.

No...Stay awake!

_No...__wake up!_

* * *

><p>"Eh, what's the matter, Gokudera?"<p>

Said male is paused in the middle of the street, and his companions turn back to watch him.

I groan a little as I detect movement.

"Hold on a second, Juudaime, something's digging into my back."

Half-conscious, I'm half-aware of the situation. There are people around me. I'm being carried. Why?

Fire. Oh yes. Yes, they rescued me. Who?

Gokudera. Yamamoto.

Gokudera adjusts me, and I feel the pressure of the ring lessen from its position—from digging into my neck and his back—and it falls out from beneath my shirt. It bounces off of his arm and lands on his shoulder, exposed to the world.

My eyes flash open as they all stare at the loop of intricate designs. I can't move to hide it, or tell them to stop when Reborn's hand reaches for the ring. But my mind sure as hell screams it.

_**No!**_

Everything within a metre radius of me ignites—an explosion of orange flames that flare up, and burn a blinding white.

Needless to say, in the explosion, Gokudera drops me—or, rather, I'm thrown back...either by him, or the flames.

I feel the back of my head smack against the pavement, and warm blood flows down the side of my face. I weakly brush the substance out of my face, disoriented by the sudden change of scenery, the blood rushing up to my head (and out of the wound), and the brilliant white flames.

There's a gunshot, and I scramble backwards after a seconds' worth of a delayed reaction.

I must be hallucinating from blood loss and smoke inhalation. Or maybe I'm wrong...but is that the Decimo running around in boxers, putting out the fire?

I stare, too bewildered and confused to do anything. But while they're distracted, I manage to push myself unsteadily to my feet, using a nearby fence for support. I keep tabs on Decimo and them through the corner of my eye.

_Dammit. I hate this! _A perfect opportunity and I'm in no condition to fight. _I'll...retreat for now._

The street is thrown into darkness, and I realize that all the flames have been put out. The dim light from the lamp flickers as the lamppost topples over.

As it crashes into the ground, I start, and stumble away. A bullet ricochets off of the curb in front of me, and I swerve, continuing to run.

I hear their running feet behind me, but I've got desperation on my side. I'm starting to slow, I can feel it. I can't get enough air, and my breaths are coming in wheezing rasps that scrape along my rough windpipe.

I hear the gunshot a split second before I feel the bullet. It hits me in the heel, and I cry out before skidding face first against the sidewalk.

"Gah...!" I clutch my leg, and glance down at it.

There's no blood. I blink, and examine it again. There's no wound at all.

"Oi! You! What the hell? Are you trying to kill Juudaime?"

_Shit. They've caught up._ I struggle to my feet. I can't get enough air to answer him, and I fall back down to one knee. There's no blood, but my Achilles' tendon is throbbing with pain. My throat feels raw.

Gokudera grabs me by the collar, pulling me back up. "Well?" he growls.

"G-Gokudera-kun!" Decimo protests.

My gaze slides onto him, and my breathing stops, rage filling me in the place of the much-needed Oxygen. _Decimo..._

He's wearing a borrowed jacket that's too big for him, and Reborn sits on his shoulder, gun smoking.

"Oi!" Gokudera shakes me, and my gaze snaps back onto him.

"Let go of me, you bastard!" I say, or, at least, attempt to. It comes out as a winded rasp. I try and spit in his pretty little face, but even that fails—I can't muster up enough saliva in my dry mouth.

_So I guess I have to..._

My right hand slips up my left sleeve, reaching slowly.

"Well? Answer me!"

He notices at the last moment, eyes widening, dropping me and jumping back right when I unsheathe my Wakizashi, slashing out at him. **[1] **It cuts his arm, and he makes an angry noise in the back of his throat, recoiling like a splashed cat.

"I said 'yes'! It's my duty...to kill the Vongola Decimo!" I snarl. Then I break down, coughing, wheezing, and gasping for air.

"Kariya-san!" Sawada runs forward, and the blade of my Wakizashi ignites as well; the scarlet flames curl around its cutting edge, and extend off of the metal blade like a ribbon of red flames. I lash out in warning at his approach, and the tip of the ribbon just misses his nose.

I growl, "Stay away from me, Decimo."

"You—!" Gokudera leaps forward, dynamite ready. He lights them, and throws them at me. With a wave of my hand, the sticks of dynamite are incinerated.

"Kari-chan...?" I glance at Yamamoto, feeling a twinge of guilt—but only a twinge!

Then, seeing that he poses no threat, I turn back to Gokudera. I flick my wrist testily, nervously. The ribbon of fire leaves scorch marks in the pavement.

Reborn jumps down, and my attention shifts to him—the biggest threat here. But he just kicks Sawada forward.

"W-haa!" he stumbles and falls over. My hand tightens on the hilt as he falls at my feet.

My hand begins to tremble, and I steady it with my left hand, brandishing the blade in front of me.

Decimo looks up at me with his brown eyes wide and fearful.

I freeze, and the flames on my blade gradually extinguish themselves—due to my _exhaustion_. I fall back against the wall.

"Hm. I thought so. You lack the will to actually kill him," Reborn steps towards me.

Decimo squeals, and scurries away from me. Gokudera steps in front of him, while Yamamoto continues to stare.

"You're not a killer, Asunake Kariya." he stops in front of me.

I manage something between a growl, a snarl, and some words that even I don't know. I wave my short sword around weakly, vaguely, trying to ward the hitman off.

Feeble sparks dance across the metal, and Reborn knocks it from my hand.

"G-Go ahead then," I cough—I can taste blood, "Kill me. Just kill me..." My eyes flick up, "Vongola Decimo."

I know he doesn't have it in him to do so. I know. I can see it in his eyes. But maybe I can provoke them into doing it. My best bet is probably Gokudera Hayato.

"It won't work. You already know that," Reborn says.

I snarl, looking back at him, and fall into another coughing fit. I'm just pathetic like this. I should just die.

Death over capture.

Death over _defeat_.

_Dammit._ I cough violently again. My vision goes blank every time I hack, until there's nothing left except for a silver-grey blur and dull lights.

"Tsuna..." I hear Yamamoto's voice.

And then, I feel myself being lifted up.

_Dammit. Dammit. Dammit! I don't need their—their—__**Pity**__**!**_

What? Am I not strong enough? Am I not worthy—not worthy of the title of Decimo?

_...Dammit._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**[1] **A wakizashi is a Japanese short sword. It's about 12-24 inches (but, let's just say Kariya's is custom and it's a bit shorter so it can fit easily up her sleeve..). Anyway, Wakizashi are usually found as a set with a traditional _Katana_. The pair is called a _Daisho_. And these were wielded by _Samurai_. All this info is from Wikipedia, which really should be given more credit.

Ah. And the title, 'Like a House on Fire', was taken from the saying: 'They get along like a house on fire.' Its meaning is actually the opposite of what you might take it to be. It's to say that two people get along very well. Take it as you will~! ;)

Thanks for reading, and please review~!


	7. Citrus

**Chapter 7**

**Citrus**

* * *

><p>I open my eyes, groaning and coughing. I sit up slowly, head spinning. I'm in an unfamiliar room.<p>

_Hunh?_

A cup's pushed into my hands. Another pair of hands rest comfortingly over mine for a moment. I look up to see the owner of the hands.

"It's lemon tea with honey. It'll…help your throat."

I accept the cup, blinking blearily, and take a sip. It brings relief to my burning throat. I take in another mouthful, and sigh as it soothes it, then gulp down the rest of the tea. I rub my eyes, looking up with a smile, "Ah. Thanks, Sawada."

He looks taken aback, and a bit…_nervous… (?)_

"Where am I? How'd I get—?" I pause.

My throat burns.

_Why? From what?_

My throat burns...

Smoke...Smoke—_Fire_.

He backs away as the empty cup falls from my hands, eyes widening.

"**You!**"I leap at him, reaching into my sleeves—

_What!_

My sweater's been removed. _I'm disarmed, I'm vulnerable. I just drank a poisoned drink given to me by the Vongola Decimo. I'm disarmed, alone, and I—_

My knees buckle, and I crash down in a heap on the floor. Decimo catches my arm. I wrench it from his grasp, and he falls over as I scramble away, hopping backwards to press myself against the wall—as far away from him as possible.

_Dizzy…dizzy…_

"Decimo!" I growl.

A gun cocks in warning, and I stiffen at the sound, eyes shooting to the doorway. Yamamoto's standing there, Reborn on his shoulder, and Gokudera at their side. Reborn has his gun trained on me.

"Juudaime!" Gokudera runs to Decimo, shooting me a dirty look.

I press myself against the wall, glaring at them. I'm totally at their mercy. My hand clutches my chest, breathing hard. It's the effect of the smoke.

"Kari-chan..." Yamamoto steps forward, regarding me with concerned eyes. There's a streak of pain within those caramel tones.

"Leave," Reborn orders them.

"Hunh? Reborn!" Decimo looks alarmed as Gokudera helps him up, wincing slightly.

"I wish to speak with her alone," Reborn elaborates.

"Juudaime, let's go," Decimo allows himself to be pulled away by his dog, but not without a backward glance at me. As his big brown eyes meet mine, I glare at him with such blatant hatred that he squeaks, and all but flees the room. Yamamoto continues to stare at me, and I turn my glare onto him. Reborn shoots him a look before he too, walks off.

I wait a moment, composing myself, before I speak, "You know I won't reveal anything, Reborn."

He smiles knowingly—_infuriatingly,_ "I thought so. But even if you decide not to tell me, I will find out, Asunake Kariya. Who you are, _what_ you are, what your purpose is—_everything._"

It _is_ the legendary Reborn…but I can't help but to challenge, "Oh yeah? How so?"

The baby hitman smirks dangerously, as if to say, '_I thought you'd never ask',_before he replies, "I've called one of my former students here. They'll be able to get the information that I need on you, anyway. But it won't be pretty."

I sigh, countering with another question to cover up my confusion, as well as disorientation, "What's the point, anyway? I'm bound by the code of Omerta. And I doubt that the information that I can provide is of much use to anybody."

His black eyes glint as he answers, "Any information, as long as it is accurate, is good information."

I shrug, trying to keep my cool, "Well, go on. Ask me anything, and I'll answer to the best of my ability."

He looks a bit taken aback at my apparent cooperation. He recovers quickly though—so quickly that I have to wonder if he really was surprised to begin with. He begins his interrogation with the classic, "Who are you?"

"My name is Asunake Kariya."

"Why did you come here?"

"To kill the Decimo."

"Who sent you?"

"No one did."

"So you were operating on your own?"

"Yes."

He frowns slightly, and I can't stop the smirk creeping onto my face. Looks like I've bested the world's greatest hitman—

"Why did you want to kill him?" _Two can play this game..._

I grit my teeth before responding, "Because I wanted him dead." _Heh. Let's play, then._

"Why did you want him dead?"

"Many people want him dead."

"Answer the question."

"I'm conforming. And besides, I'd be doing them a big favour by taking him out, ne?"

"I see. But on the other hand, they may hate you for taking the chance away from them."

"Hmm. So? So what if they hate me? They'd just kill me anyway."

"Oh?"

I glare. I've revealed too much to him, though not enough for him to infer anything of any importance. I ask, "So what now, Reborn?"

"Hmm..." The baby crosses his arms, but other than that, doesn't answer.

"I mean, why didn't you kill me?"

"Tsuna was against it—_would_ be against it."

"Yeah, but you're _the_ hitman. Why would a brat like the to-be Decimo—_how_ would he be able to stop you?"

"He wouldn't," Reborn states simply, smirking, "But you might be useful... You _would be an asset to Tsuna's family."_

It takes me a moment for the implications to sink in. I blink, then reply with a voice laden heavily with sarcasm, "Let me remind you," I deadpan, "Not twenty-four hours ago, I just attempted to assassinate your charge—the to-be Vongola Decimo. May I stress, _the_ Vongola Decimo. And I just tried to kill him again, less than five minutes ago in your presence. Now, with that said, you want me to become part of his _Famiglia_?"

"It's mafia law. The loser will become the winner's subordinate."

"I didn't lose. Decimo never fought me," I feel as if I need to counter him childishly to protect what little pride I have left.

"On the contrary, you couldn't kill him. Therefore, Tsuna won by default. Even if you were to face-off now, at this moment, or any moment in time, you would not be able to defeat him," Reborn says.

"You're overestimating Decimo's abilities, and underestimating mine. In a one-on-one fight, the Decimo would be utterly destroyed."

"I _was_ speaking of a one-on-one battle," Reborn smirks, and then poses a question, "Do you know why you couldn't win—_cannot_ win, Kariya?"

My eyes narrow, and the baby hitman continues, "It's because you lack the resolve to kill him. And do you know why _that_ is?"

I shake my head, not wanting to hear it, because I already know the answer.

"It's the same reason why you insist on referring to Tsuna as '_Decimo_'. You're dehumanizing him, stripping away the foundations of your _friendship_. Sawada Tsunayoshi is your friend, and you can't kill him...Can you, Kariya?"

"Shut up!" I growl. I don't care if he's the world's greatest hitman, I don't care if he can kill me without so much as batting an eyelash. Hell, I don't care if he can kill me in his sleep, or even he can't! No one, _no one_ soils my pride. I hiss through my teeth, "Sawada Tsunayoshi is _not_ my friend. Sawada Tsunayoshi is the Vongola Decimo—my enemy—the two are one and the same, and so, I'll kill him!"

"Is that so?" Reborn taunts.

"Yes!" I snarl, slamming my fist against the wall.

"HIEEE!" The door swings open, and the brunet falls into the room.

It only takes a startled cry of '_Juudaime! Are you okay?'_ before I push myself off from the wall, off of the bed, and hurdle over his hunched over form. I land clumsily, stumbling into something—it could've been Gokudera or somebody—I don't know. But I push them aside, and look around wildly.

_Okay. Okay. I'm upstairs—I _think_. Yeah, because those are stairs down there, ne? Down. Get out, get out, __**get out**__._

I run down the stairs, being careful not to slip up. My momentum carries me into the wall, and I flounder for a moment, I panic at the sound of thundering steps behind me. _No, no, not again! Not _again_!_

I push away from the wall, and my head swivels around, looking for an exit.

"Ara? Tsu-kun?"

I whip around to face the new, unfamiliar voice. It's a woman, with brown hair and worried brown eyes. I gawk in surprise, before my gaze hardens. I spin on my heel, no longer bothering to run. They can't stop me anyway. I storm down the hallway, ignoring the woman's questions and concerns. I locate my shoes, and quickly step into them, not even bothering to put them on properly.

"Kaa-san! Where did Kariya-san go?"

"Tsuna!" Yamamoto calls.

I fumble with the lock before jerking the door open and slamming it behind me. I hear the door being hastily thrown open again, and I march down the path. I open the fence too, not bothering to close it, and continue on my way—destination, unknown.

"Kari-chan! Stop! Wait up!" Yamamoto runs after me, with the rest in hot pursuit. He grabs my hand, trying to pull me to a standstill.

I'm not one to cooperate though, nor am I in a mood to even contemplate listening to their trivial matters. I wrench my hand from his grasp, turning on him with an irate growl, "_Let go. _I'm a star, boy, don't question me. Don't touch me. Don't come _near_ me. I'm above you and your petty lives. I am the ray of light that even darkness cannot conquer. I am the personification of brilliance. I shine alone, high in the sky, **above you all**. So stay away from me! I have a duty to fulfil, beyond your comprehension!"

I fall silent for a moment, and they follow suit, watching me, not knowing what to expect. I mutter darkly, backing away from them, "Well, I _had_ a duty to fulfill. But now...I don't have _anything_ anymore!"

I feel angry tears starting to form, so I quickly turn in-step, and walk away.

"Wait! Kariya-san!" Sawada calls after me, "Kariya-san!"

"Stop right there, woman, or I'll _blow you to pieces._"

I stop in my tracks, spinning around to yell, "You don't know what it's like to have _nothing_ but that one goal. There's _nothing_, absolutely _nothing_ else that I existed for, and that sole duty was taken away from me!"

The tears spill over, and mortified, I run off.

Their faces are still etched into my mind, though. Reborn's grim expression, next to Sawada's pitying look, appears cold. Yamamoto's expression is sad, but that's to be expected. They're all just kids. What's unexpected is the look on Gokudera's face—one of complete understanding, so different from his usual scowling, harsh attitude.

For a moment, I allow a thought: _How did he become like that?_

Then, I skid to a stop, turning once more to where they're still standing, and scream, "I told ya! I don't want yer fuckin' _pity_, an' I sure as hell don't want yer _sympathy_ either!"

Then, I hurry around the corner so I don't have to feel their stares boring into my retreating back.

Yes, that's it—_retreat._ But to where? Where can I go?

_Nowhere_. There's nowhere _to_ go.

I would've been better off if they'd just sucked it up and killed me.

* * *

><p>"Kariya-san!" Tsuna yells as she careens around the corner, and out of sight.<p>

"Tsuna, give her some time alone."

"But, Reborn..." Tsuna pauses, looking back at them, "She's still injured..."

"Hm," Reborn smirks, and turns back into the house. "That means that she'll be back; where else can she go? And besides...she's unarmed right now. She'll be back sooner or later."

"Good riddance," Gokudera mutters.

"Gokudera-kun!" Tsuna reprimands.

* * *

><p>I walk for quite a while, trying to orient myself. I first stop at the convenience store and spend all of the remaining money on my person on every kind of food and drink I can get my hands on. Stepping out of the store, I have to wonder if it was a good idea to spend <em>all<em> of money...I shrug, tying off the plastic bags, and continue walking.

If my memory is correct, then I should be heading towards Kokuyo. I chose to walk because I didn't want to take a bus or taxi—I'm really not in the mood to deal with people or their general noise.

And I need time to sort through my thoughts. I look up at the sky—it's still daytime. So that must mean that today is a weekend.

I sigh, continuing down the little used service road. _But first...I need a place to stay. Fine. I'll go to Kokuyo for a bit to gather my thoughts. Alright. But then what? _

_**...I don't know.**_

I wrap an arm around myself. It's getting hard to breathe again. The smoke must've been a lot more damaging than I thought...it'll take a while to heal. I may not have the luxury of time. No doubt Reborn will notify the Vongola Nono, and my head will be brought back to him on a spike or something.

Then, I'll just have to give them everything that I've got. I won't go down without a fight, that's guaranteed.

_Alright._ I'm going to need a break in a few minutes. The pressure on my lungs and ribcage is getting to be too much. I cough raspily. The smoke damaged my windpipe—that much is obvious—and the discomfort is making itself known again.

Pouting at my surroundings, I search for a prospective place to stay—and something to quench this thirst.

"Ne? Kokuyo Health Land?" I read the sign, then grimace as I fall into another coughing fit.

As I approach the gates, I find them locked, so I follow the fence-line into the trees. I walk along it until I find a weak link. I burrow underneath it, and hiss when it snags on the back of my shirt, unravelling it a bit. I break off the thread before it ruins the shirt. I carefully pull the bags through behind me.

The incline of the hill is shallow, but it takes a toll on my damaged lungs. Walking past the tree-line, I approach the rundown building.

_Right now, any place with a roof, is a good place._

I enter the rotting building tentatively. This place has been long-abandoned; it looks like it might collapse at any moment. I take ginger steps up a short flight of stairs, looking for an ideal room to stay in—somewhere with a good view of the building's surroundings, spacey, and still relatively intact. I find a room with an entire wall made of glass panes. Ragged maroon curtains still hang on to the rusted bars—it gives the room a haunted feeling.

I shiver a little. It's kind of...creepy in here, all alone...and _silent_.

...But there _is_ a couch to make up for the room's utter creepiness. That makes it a _bit_ better...

And I've had worse. So I'll just suck it up, gather my bearings, and be done with it.

I toss the grocery bags down on the floor, and they spill open, packets of food spreading across the floor in a wonderful array of colours. Selecting a bottle, I take a long drink, sighing as it cools the burning feeling in my throat. I glance at the container in my hand, and then frowning, I plop down on the couch, curling up.

I let the bottle of honey lemon tea fall from my hands. The remaining contents spill across the floor and its sweet smell permeates the air.

I cough again, turning over on the couch, not wanting to face reality for just an eternity. But even if I turn away, even if I close my eyes, the sweetness of the sugar, and the taste of the citrus tang remains in my mouth.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

Hello everybody! Apparently lemon tea with honey really does work—for sore throats and such!

Anyway, just a note, I will be changing up the timeline of KHR a little bit (don't worry, not too much), just a few tweaks here and there to make everything flow a little more smoothly.

Thank you for reading, for your reviews, your favourites, and alerts! They make me really happy! With that said...Review?


	8. Turning Point

**Chapter 8**

**Turning Point**

* * *

><p>After a while of moping around, unable to sleep, and unable to think rationally, I get up, rolling off of the torn and tattered couch, onto the food. I fumble around for something to eat. Ripping open a wrapper, I find that eating chocolate makes my throat burn even more. I pocket it. I'll save it for later. I cough as the burning sensation makes my throat tingle uncomfortably.<p>

I reach for a bottle of water. I quickly uncap it, gulping down a few mouthfuls. And I have to say, my throat feels much better than before. It's like it healed up within a few hours. I shrug. Sheer dumb luck, I guess.

I need to find out more about my surroundings, and exactly what day it is. So I wander into downtown Kokuyo. It's a _lot_ different than Namimori. No doubt, they have a larger population, and their inhabitants are well off. But with the great numbers of wealthy people…there is _suffering_.

And that's right where I end up—surrounded by high-tech high-rises on all sides, with people bustling around in all directions. Smartly dressed businessmen swing their briefcases importantly as they take large strides, raking their cool gazes over the heads of less-fortunate people. Severe women in pant-suits and tight buns piled on their heads brush past me, their elegant heels _click-clacking_ disdainfully.

Along with these workers on their lunch break, there are also people around my age, travelling in close-knit groups, and always filled with strident laughter. As if the city wasn't already loud enough itself.

"Noise pollution…" I mutter. Is this what Hibari feels like all the time? Damn. Just some peace and quiet would be nice.

Irrational irritation wells up within my chest, and I reach for the weapons up my sleeves. I feel like some…violence is in order.

Hunh?

I rub my bare arms awkwardly. My sweater's gone, so obviously I am sans weaponry. Damn. Decimo must have taken it. They probably searched it, too. Che. That's all I have left, anyway…

But…I feel awfully exposed without the comforting weight pressing down on my arms.

I shuffle from foot to foot, debating the problem in my head.

I'm knocked forward abruptly as a girl walks into me. I recoil, growling snappishly, "Watch it!"

She turns to me with a heated purple gaze, "You watch it, little girl!"

I eye her dozens of shopping bags, and her perfectly-styled red hair, before turning away. It's a waste of time to argue with these kinds of people—they'll never get it.

"Hey! I'm not done talking! Hey! _Hey_!"

"Goodbye," I call. At least _I'm_ civil…enough.

* * *

><p>After making my decision and steeling myself, I walk to the crowded bus shelter. I don't think I can make it back to Namimori by nightfall on foot. So, I'll have to resort to this.<p>

Hitchhiking is out of the question—what with these sketchy people. And taxis are too personal—there's no way I'd be able to get away with this on a taxi. As the bus pulls up, I make myself seem as small as possible, and slink on, using a middle-aged woman as a screen. I quickly secure a window seat right by the back exit, sprawling out on the seat to ensure that no one will sit near me.

An elderly woman _tsks_ as she sees me, and sniffs scornfully. I glare at her venomously, reaching into my pocket slowly. Her eyes widen in fear, and she shuffles away quickly.

I pull my half-eaten chocolate bar out, taking a violent bite out of the corner. "Fucking stereotypers."

* * *

><p>"Miss, Miss?"<p>

I wake up groggily. _I fell asleep…all exposed, out in the open like this…__Stupid!_

"Um…Yeah?" I answer oh-so-intelligently.

The bus driver smiles gently at me, "I saw that back there, you sneaking on. Do you need help? Do you need to make a call?" He offers.

I look around. We're at the main station, and people are exiting the bus, filing out in a bleary line.

"Um…No. My bad…"

_Yes. My bad. You weren't supposed to see. What was I even thinking?_

"Do you need help, miss? I could call somebody to come pick you up. You should go home…It's not that bad."

"What…?" I ask, still a bit disoriented, and more than a little bit confused. _Oh._ He thinks that I'm a runaway. I smirk at the irony—in a way, I guess I sort of am.

"I'm fine, thank you," I reply, standing.

He pulls out a cell phone, blocking my way, "Miss, I'm afraid I can't let you make this mistake. You have to go home to your parents. You can work things out."

"Thank you for your concern," I say, backing away, "But I really don't need any help."

He dials a number on his phone, and I make my escape out of the back exit. I run off the bus, not bothering to look back.

"Hey! Wait!"

Damn altruistic people. They mean well, but their timing sucks.

* * *

><p>"Wait up! Hey miss! Miss! Stop! Don't do this to yourself! You're making a big—"<p>

"Herbivore. Be quiet," A voice growls through the phone, "Report now, or hang up and stop wasting my time."

* * *

><p>I make the rest of the journey back to the Sawada residence on foot. The gate is open, so I march right up to the front door. I falter for a moment. Then I scowl, reaching for the doorknob. To my surprise, I find it unlocked.<p>

I open it slowly, letting my shock melt away. I guess you don't exactly need an alarm system, or even a lock for your front door, if Reborn is living in your house.

I close the door behind me, and that's when guilt hits me. I take my shoes off, and line them up neatly, before bowing at the empty house. _Forgive me for storming out earlier, Mrs. Sawada._

Then, that piece of remorse dealt with, I make my way upstairs. I run the memory through my head, trying to discern which room is Decimo's.

"It should be...This one," I murmur to myself, opening the door none too gently.

"HIEE!" Decimo leaps about a foot into the air. Then, as he recognizes me, he lowers his arms, "K-Kariya-san! What're you doing here? Are you okay?"

I ignore him, glancing around the room. I find my belongings sitting in a neat pile on his desk. Noting the absence of Reborn, I stalk over scooping my laptop up after shoving my iPod into my pocket, "I'll be taking these."

Decimo looks me over, then nods, "Take these as well, Kariya-san," he holds out my sweater.

I stare at him with wide eyes, "Are you..._stupid?_"

But I place my laptop down and snatch them out of his hands anyway. I slip the sweater on, relieved at the familiar weight on my forearms. I unsheathe my wakizashis quickly, scraping them against each other with a distinct metal ring. He watches apprehensively, and I meet his rabbit-like gaze. Then I lunge, pinning him against the wall with a forearm reinforced by the metal sheath.

He trembles, and his eyes are fearful, but he looks back at me, meeting my gaze, "You're not a bad person, Kariya-san."

My eyes narrow for a moment. _Did he hear? Is he utilizing the knowledge that be obtained from eavesdropping earlier?_

His eyes tell another story. At my hesitance, his trembling has stopped, and he places a hand on my shoulder, dealing the final blow, "You're my friend, Kariya-san."

My eyes widen again, and I quickly sheathe the two blades and stuff them up my sleeves before stuffing my laptop into the bag, slinging it over my shoulder and making a run for it.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow...right?" He manages a bit hesitantly.

I ignore his question, and proceed down the stairs, showing myself out, not bothering to say a word to anyone. But what have I got to lose?

_I have nothing left to lose._

And Namimori _is_ nice. I won't let them chase me out! I square my shoulders. _No, I won't let them chase me away. I'm staying._

So...I need to take up a temporary residence somewhere in Namimori. I feel bad tricking any more couples out of their homes—but that couple _had_ deserved a little vacation break, so I thought I'd plant the idea in their heads. Hey, it was a win-win situation. At least...it _was_ until the house had burned down.

I'm sure that there's a whole bunch of legal issues that need to be resolved, none of which I know how to deal with. Though, I'm willing to bet that Reborn has already dealt with those.

But that still doesn't answer the question. Where am I going to stay?

Well, I can break into someone's home, I could break into the school, or I could find some alley to camp out in. My safest bet is to sneak back into the school.

My stomach growls loudly.

I guess my question's just been answered. Dumpster diving it is. I look around suspiciously before ducking into the alleyway behind the shopping district. I lift the lid of the smaller dumpster, wrinkling my nose in distaste. But, it appears that luck is somewhat on my side—there's a hamburger, untouched, and relatively clean, sitting on top of the garbage.

I fish it out gingerly. Good thing there's the wrapper. I unwrap the burger. How wasteful; they threw it out just because the bun was a little bit deformed. But, no matter. They did, and that's why I'm able to have some dinner tonight. I can't help but feel a bit thankful, before remembering that I'm eating someone else's garbage.

As people pass me, I return their disgusted glances with a half-hearted glare, and half look away in shame. Yes, I'm camped out in an alley, eating dumpster food. Fuck off.

* * *

><p>I force myself up in the morning. I have to get out of here before the workers arrive at work to discover me here. They'll call the cops on me, no doubt.<p>

I'm greeted warmly and with much concern in homeroom.

"Kariya-san, what happened to your uniform?"

"Are you alright, Asunake-san?"

"You look really pale, are you sick?"

"Are you feeling alright?"

This brings my attention to my state of appearance. I probably don't look too great. I feel horrible too. Must've been something I ate. But I put on an awkward smile, "I'm alright. Thank you for your concern. We should sit down now, class is about to start."

The girls all sit down, revealing Gokudera, who's turned around in his seat, scrutinizing me with his sharp gaze.

I look away snootily, out of the window. I make it a point to avoid them and ignore their stares. But I still feel his and Yamamoto's gazes burning through me.

* * *

><p>So I skip class. Luck is <em>not<em> on my side today—I pass Hibari in the hallway.

"You have been reminded several times about your uniform, Asunake Kariya."

I nod disinterestedly. It's not like I can do anything about it anyway. So I might as well fuel the fire: "I believe I still owe you a fight, ne, Kyoya?"

"Do not address me so casually, you Batesian mimic." **[1]**

I blink, not understanding the term.

But he smirks, "However, I accept your challenge. Meet me on the rooftop...at lunch."

When I protest, he fixates his steely gaze on me. "Let me remind you that classes are still in session. And it's time for my nap. Like the one you interrupted because of your escapade on the bus."

I splutter in frustration as he sweeps out of the room. Who does he think he is?

And the bus driver...called him? Does Kyoya control the public service sectors as well? It's a wonder that he hasn't already officially taken over Namimori and established an authoritarian state.

On another note…Never have I seen anyone move so gracefully before. Except for maybe...

_No._ But I stop my train of thought a little too late.

_Tanya..._

"Che!" The only thing that I can do is skulk back to class...

* * *

><p>"Alright, Kyoya. Let's do this."<p>

His eyes narrow at my clear lack of respect.

I won't make the same mistake again. This time, before the scrimmage begins, I make sure to unsheathe my wakizashis—both of them.

This Hibari Kyoya is not one to take lightly.

Seeing me take my wakizashis out, Hibari whips his tonfas out as well. There's no warning, no commencement procedure, he just smirks and charges.

His tonfa crashes into my wakizashi, and I'm forced backwards. I dig my heels in, trying to hold my ground. But the force is too strong, and I'm thrown backwards. I twist around in an attempt to catch myself on something. But there is no 'something', so I skid across the rooftop, skinning my knees, and ripping the end of my skirt.

I duck back down as I feel him approaching, and sure enough, his tonfa swishes over the top of my head.

I whirl around, slashing out first with my left, then right wakizashi.

He dances back, just out of range. I refrain from using the flame function—it's just a scrimmage, and I don't want to go all out. I doubt Kyoya wants his beloved school destroyed anyway.

He springs forward again, and I block his blow again. It's really awkward to fight him. We're both dual-wielding, and we're able to match the other's movements. But...his weapon is along his arms, essentially behind him, while my weapons are brandished in front of me—it looks and feels like an awkward back-and-forth dance.

His tonfa swings down, and I raise my arms to block the attack from above. He smirks, and adjusts the angle so his hit lands on my hand. My grip weakens, and he follows it up with another strike, sending the blade spinning from my grasp.

I watch as it flies over the fence, down into the courtyard below. There's frightened scream, and I assume that it's nearly killed someone.

My stomach growls loudly, and I look down at it, somewhat angry, somewhat shocked, and somewhat _embarrassed_. My throbbing fingers clutch my torso; face heating up as I reprimand my stomach, "This isn't the time!"

He frowns slightly, and I stand, leaping at him with the lone wakizashi clutched in my left hand. Dammit. It just _had_ to be my left hand. I haven't had to use it in so long that my skills with that hand have deteriorated significantly.

He focuses his attacks on my right side, and I have to keep twisting away from his vicious tonfa.

"Oh!" I gasp. What an idiot I am. I could've just switched my wakizashi from my left hand to my right!

But as I make the transfer, Kyoya knocks it from my hands. This time there's a metallic ring as the weapon makes contact with the side of the building before inciting an angry yell from the courtyard.

Without my blades, I'm reduced to being on the defensive. I can't fight hand-to-hand.

I knock his tonfa away with the sheath along the back of my arm, and his tonfa spins away. There's a surprised shout from down below. Now this, this is a little less awkward, since we're fighting more or less similarly—both gawkily.

This knocks him off balance, and I swoop in clumsily, trying to land a punch.

My hand's batted away by his other tonfa. And he hits me in gut, driving me into the ground. I bring my leg up, kicking him away. He shrinks back to minimalize the damage. I cough, rolling over on my hands and knees, wheezing for breath. At least...At least my stomach's stopped growling, I think to myself weakly.

There's running steps, and we both turn to the sound. The door is thrown open, smacking into the concrete with a loud crash.

"_**Oi, Hibari! You dropped this!" **_

Hibari stalks over, grabbing his tonfa from the other male's hand, then calls to me, "I've lost my appetite. I'll bite you to death later." And he walks away.

"Hey! We're not finished here!" I yell, "Hey! Don't ignore me!"

I turn my attention onto the white-haired male.

"You!" I accuse, "You interrupted my fight! I was winning, dumbass!"

He nods, closing his eyes and crossing his arms seriously. "Mmm. It was an extreme fight."

"That's it? That's all you're gonna' say?"

He shakes his head, putting an arm around me, "Join the boxing club! We need more members like you!"

I just stare at him incredulously. "Who...are you?"

"Sasagawa Ryohei, the _**extreme **_captain of the boxing club!"

"Sasagawa...You're Kyoko's brother." _Dear God, how does she live with him?_

"Onii-san!" Sawada runs up the stairs, looking around in a panic.

"Sawada!"

"Onii-san! There you are!" He approaches us, and his eyes widen when he sees me, "Kariya-san! You're here too! Are you okay?" He asks when he takes in the sight of my bloody knees and disgruntled expression.

"I'm fine," I say gruffly as I look away.

"Here," Sawada hands me my wakizashis for the second time within a few days.

I take the unsheathed weapons from him carefully. He dips his head, and I sheathe the blades. He smiles gently at me before pulling the still-shouting white-haired male after him.

"Sawada!" I call. When he looks back in surprise, I cross my arms, muttering a quick thank you.

He smiles, "You're welcome, Kariya-san!" Then he closes the door quietly behind them.

* * *

><p>I make it through the rest of the day, somehow.<p>

"Hey, Kariya!"

"Hunh?" I turn to see Momo-senpai, "Oh, hey."

"Are you alright? I heard that you got into a fight with Gokudera."

"I did?" _Damn people and their stupid rumours._

"Did he do this to you?" He gestures at my bloody knees, ripped clothing, and scruffy laptop bag at my side.

"No, no. I'm fine," I answer.

He grips my arms tightly, black eyes boring into me, "Are you sure? I'll deal with him for you."

I deftly manoeuvre out of his hold, "Leave him alone. I told you, I'm fine, Momo-senpai."

He chuckles, "If you're sure, Kariya." he ruffles my hair, and walks away.

I stick my tongue out at his retreating form. What's with all these people and their concern for me? It's useless and a waste of time.

* * *

><p>I wander around Namimori. <em>What else is there to do but exist?<em>

The shopping district is busy, and while it's filled with just as many people as Kokuyo, the atmosphere is a whole lot warmer.

A child runs into my shin, interrupting my thoughts, and I look down. A little girl garbed in red robes bows in apology, "Sorry."

"It's okay." I reply.

Then a second child runs into me, bouncing off of my leg and falling over. He looks up with teary eyes. He's dressed in cow-print and has an afro as big as he is. He yells at me, pouting, "Hey! Watch where you're going, baabaa!" **[2] **

"Lambo, say sorry!" The little girl says in broken Japanese.

"No!"

"Lambo rude!"

"I-Pin's rude! Lambo-san's a good kid!"

I roll my eyes, but otherwise remain silent and watch their altercation with an amused expression. _Kids these days._

Then the cow-print kid—Lambo—reaches into his afro and pulls a pink object out. _Whoa. Come again? He can keep grenades in his afro? What else can he keep in there?_

**Wait. **

_**Grenade!**_

He pulls the pin, and panicking, I pull it from his hands, throwing it straight up in the air. I cringe as it explodes, hoping my aim is good enough so that it doesn't hit a building, hit a person, or explode while people are still in its range.

Then I turn my wrath onto Lambo, "This is _not_ a toy! These are fuc—" I cut off my curse at the last moment as I realize that I'm talking to a bunch of five-year-olds, "These are _grenades!_ They're weapons! Don't treat them like toys! Why do you even have grenades to begin with?"

"Na, na, buy Lambo-san some candy!" He whines and bounces around me.

"You're not even listening are you?" I sigh, then give in, "Alright, alright. Let's go."

The two children run in circles around me, and I have to be careful not to step on them and trip myself. I plan to walk them to the convenience store, then ditch them. I mean, I don't have _any_ money left, even for my own purposes.

As we enter the convenience store on the corner of the street, the two kids take off, and I debate whether I should leave them now. They're interesting. I might as well stay just a bit longer. I try to ignore the hunger that's growing in my stomach, as well as the packets of tantalizing food around me. Maybe it wasn't such a smart idea to leave all of my food back at Kokuyo Health Land.

I round the corner of the aisle, and walk into someone, "Oh, my bad."

I look up, rubbing my head, then spring backwards.

"**What're **_**you**_** doing here?" **The both of us yell, pointing at the other.

There's a moment's bated breath, then: "**I could ask you the same thing!**"

"Stop copying me!"

"_You_ stop it!"

"Na, na, Lambo-san's hungry!" The child whines. His gaze zeroes in on me, and he bounds over, demanding, "You! Baa-san! You promised you'd buy me some food!"

I twitch, turning my attention away from the bomber, "_Baa...san...?"_

"Lambo-san wants grape candy, and a lollipop. One of those _big_ rainbow ones!"

"Shut up, you stupid cow!"

"You shut up, Ahoudera!"

"Nice..." I mutter. _I don't whose side to take on this one..._ "Wait, you know each other?"

"Che. Unfortunately..." Gokudera grumbles unhappily, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Good. That means that _that_," I eye the toddler that's now leaping from shelf-to-shelf across aisles, over the heads of alarmed customers, "Is now _your_ problem."

"What—?"

"Goodbye, Gokudera Hayate."

He splutters as I stride past him.

"It's _Hayato_, idiot!"

"Yes, yes," I wave my hand nonchalantly as the automatic doors open for me, "That's right, Hayate-idiot."

"Hey! Where do you think you're—"

There's a crash, and I turn to look. The see-through doors slide shut in front of me, and I stare into the chaos within the convenience store. Shelves are overturned, produce scattered, and one cow-printed child stands triumphant on top of the mountain of bodies, grape lollipop in hand. His raucous laughter is silenced by the glass of the windows, but even I can tell he's in trouble when security comes for him.

Gokudera crawls out from beneath the shelves, shaking his head, and glaring at me through the glass. I'm positively dying with laughter. I-Pin grabs onto him and scrambles up onto his shoulder.

As the security guards look around, still probing for the perpetrator, Lambo runs out of the store with the lollipop in hand, and leaps onto my head, laughing, "Baa-san! Run! Run!"

Since when did I get dragged into this?

I have a feeling that Kyoya will get another call today. Because...I _do_ run. I don't know why, but my legs respond to that word.

"_Run, Riri. Run, and keep running. Don't stop. Don't look back. Do you hear me? Just keep running!"_

I shake my head of thoughts, and memories that really should just be forgotten. I throw my head back and laugh as Lambo cheers, and continue running, hair flying, and bag thumping against my side.

* * *

><p>"Oi! Woman! Wait up!" Gokudera catches up to me after a while, and Lambo leaps over to sit on top of his head.<p>

"Lambo! Stealing bad!" The little girl scolds.

"Yeah, you stupid cow! Because of you, I had to waste even more money!"

"Bleh~" Lambo sticks his tongue out, singing, "Tako-head and Baa-san sitting in a tree K-I—"

The poor kid never gets to finish the thought.

Gokudera chases him down the street, cursing and yelling at the laughing child. I tilt my head. Is it just me or has the bomber grown taller since I last saw him?

I look at the little Chinese girl, I-Pin, "Are they always like that?"

She nods, "Lambo loud. Gokudera-san louder. Sasagawa-san _loudest_."

I laugh.

The two of us meet the two boys in the park. Lambo is with a bunch of other kids around his age, and I-Pin runs to join them.

Gokudera takes a seat at the top of the slide, and I squeeze in beside him, just because I know he hates my proximity. And sure enough, he scowls at me immediately, and shifts over as much as he can without giving up his position. He stretches his legs out to occupy the rest of the space, and I'm forced to tuck my knees into my body. _Touché…_

He thrusts a grocery bag into my hands, and looks away quickly, reaching into his own bag. He pulls out a bento box, and begins eating.

I blink in response, then peer into the bag in my hands. Inside is a matching bento, a bottle of orange juice, and box of Pocky. I glance up at him with wide eyes.

"What?" He growls, "Juudaime said to look out for you. And that stupid baseball-freak said that you liked Pocky. You looked hungry, so stop staring at me and eat." He takes a disgruntled bite out of his teriyaki chicken.

I open the box carefully. In all of my time in Japan, I've never once had a bento box meal. I admire the nicely arranged foods.

"Hurry up and eat, idiot."

I glare at him, "I'm enjoying its aesthetics. _You_ shut up and eat your food."

But I break apart the wooden chopsticks and take a bite out of the cute little octopus wieners. I smile as I enjoy the taste. My stomach decides to interrupt this happy moment with another loud grumble.

My face reddens, and Gokudera shakes with silent laughter.

"Shut up!" I push him with my shoulder, "Hey, shush, tummy. I'm eating, alright?"

He laughs even harder before he starts choking on his food. It's my turn to laugh as he coughs. He steals a drink from my orange juice, and we return to glaring at each other.

I look at him and the small frown on his face as he fumbles for his lighter. When he finds it, his expression lights up triumphantly, almost comically. It is then my turn to frown. I grab his hand, preventing him from lighting the cigarette between his lips.

"Oi!" He grumbles around the stick, "'Haven't had a smoke in days. Let _go_."

I turn his hand over, examining it, then grab his other hand, studying it as well. They're still bandaged up, and he winces when the delicate skin makes contact with anything.

"The burns..." I release his hands, turning to look at Lambo and I-Pin, "Were they...bad?"

"Che. They were nothing. I'm Juudaime's right hand man! Of course I was alright. _You_, on the other hand, were out for a while."

He smirks at me, and I glare back. I pull the cigarette out from between his lips, and whip it as far as I can. Hibari might be patrolling, he might even fingerprint-scan it, but just for this once, I believe this act of littering is justified.

"Hey! You can't just—"

"I just did," I fume, sitting back down.

We glower at the scenery in silence, squished in side-by-side at the mouth of the slide.

He pockets his lighter with a heavy sigh before speaking, "Reborn-san wants you to join Juudaime's family."

"Yeah, I heard. But…"

He nods once before turning away, "Yeah. I know. I'm against it, personally. But…I agree with Reborn-san; Juudaime needs strong members for his family."

"But…I can't switch my stance just like that," I retort.

"Juudaime...isn't...bad. And I also agree with Reborn-san—you're incapable of harming Juudaime."

I raise an eyebrow, and he glares at me, silencing the thought that's forming on the tip of my tongue.

"He doesn't want to become the tenth."

"What?" I look at him sharply, "Why? Why wouldn't he?"

"Look. Juudaime was raised as a normal kid, so of course he doesn't want to become involved with the mafia! We, on the other hand, were born _into_ the mafia, so it's different for us! You wouldn't know what it's like to be in Juudaime's position!"

I listen in silence, then I propose an idea in a hesitant tone, "Suppose I _was_ in Sawada's position. Suppose…I was born into a normal family…with normal parents that loved me, and perhaps a younger sibling that adored me…what would _that_ be like, Gokudera?"

He looks positively confused, but he hides it well with his scowl, "What the hell's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Suppose I led a normal life…what's a normal life like, Gokudera?" I smile sadly at the kids on the swings. They laugh, and when their parents call them back, they say their goodbyes to Lambo and I-Pin and run into the arms of their parents.

"How should I know, you stupid woman? It was always like this for me."

"Is that so?" I say offhandedly, "Then w—"

"Gyahaha! Lambo-san found Tako-head and Baa-san!"

"_Aho_—"

"—That's it! I'm gonna' teach ya some manners, ya cow-print brat!"

"Bleh~"

"Lambo! Not nice!" I-Pin berates in her broken Japanese.

* * *

><p>I say goodbye to the trio at the park, finishing my drink and throwing out my garbage. Putting the uneaten Pocky carefully into my pocket, I make my way back to the dumpster that was and will be my temporary residence.<p>

It's a quiet night. It's just the sky, the stars, me, the dumpster and—

"You two," I pause, turning around, "I know you're there. How long have you been following me?"

The two figures step out of the shadows. It's dark and I can't see their faces, only faint outlines of their figures.

"What do you want?" I say, moving backwards into the alley to drown myself in darkness as well.

"We've been sent to kill you, Asunake Kariya."

I raise an eyebrow. _Again? But, why? If Reborn wants me to join Sawada's Famiglia...then why are the Vongola still sending assassins after me?_

"Alright, then. Let's go."

I unsheathe both wakizashis, and run at the bigger of the two. I must've underestimated his bulky frame, because he literally just swats me aside. I crash into the side of the dumpster, and my ears ring. I fall forward, and I hear a sound that fills me with fear—a muffled _crunch._

My eyes widen, and I look down. My Pocky has fallen out of my pocket. My Pocky...My Pocky has been _crushed._

"You crushed my Pocky!" I say incredulously, "You _fucking crushed my Pocky!_" I stab down with my blade, piercing his foot, and as he howls, I swing my fist, relishing the moment it makes contact with his jaw. The hit lands with a satisfying crunch, and as he flies backwards, into the dumpster, I pull my blade out of his foot. I grab a nearby rag, wiping the blade clean of his foul blood.

The smaller male turns into a nervous wreck as he sees his thug of a partner beaten. He turns to run, but I pull him back by his collar, and knee him in the stomach before kicking him into the dumpster along with the other. I then, quickly clamber on top of it, panting. I really hope I'm heavy enough to keep them in there.

"Oi! Let us out!"

"Tell me who you are! Who sent you?" I growl. _It's __them__._ I'm getting the same sensation that I got back at the burning house. It's not exactly the same people...but they're somehow related. I just know it!

"Hey! Answer me, dammit!" I stomp on the dumpster.

"Stop! Stop! Stop! It's too loud!"

I pause, then pound the lid with my fists, "I'll stop as soon as you answer me." I pause for a brief moment to ask, "Who sent you? And why are you trying to kill me?"

A thrill of fear runs through me. Does this mean that after all of these years, the Vongola are _still_ hunting me? Maybe…Maybe Reborn told the Nono of my attempt on the Decimo's life. Maybe they're doubling their efforts or something…

I shiver, my _irritation_ doubling.

"Oi! You in there!" I stomp my foot down, releasing a bit of the anger, "I've waited long enough. Talk!"

I listen hard to their whisperings.

"Don't worry, it's just a while longer."

"Just endure it. She'll be pleased to know that we got so close to the target."

'_She'__?_

"Yeah…"

"It's time…"

I wrench the lid off of the dumpster, guns a blazin', "I fucking want my an…swers…?"

The two assassins…are _gone_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**[1] **Batesian Mimic: A harmless species that mimics another harmful species in order to protect itself. Example: A harmless Viceroy butterfly developed a pattern that mimics that of a poisonous Monarch Butterfly.

**[2]** Baabaa: Lambo's just calling Kariya an old woman, in a less polite way than the later 'baa-san'...

And oh the irony of stereotypes~

Anyway, thank you for reading, and your wonderful reviews/faves/alerts and such.


	9. Ignominy, Purpose, Petrichor and Blood

**Chapter 9**

**Ignominy, Purpose, Petrichor, and Blood**

* * *

><p>The next time I see Reborn, it's a few weeks later at the shopping district, and he appears to be berating Sawada for something. I march right up to him to confront him, totally ignoring Sawada, and disregarding Yamamoto and Gokudera. There might be someone else with them, but I don't know them, and therefore they aren't even within my sights.<p>

"Reborn!" I demand, "Why are the Vongola still sending assassins after me?"

His brow furrows. "As far as I know, the Vongola have done no such thing."

"Che!" I glare at him mistrustfully.

"And what do you mean by '_still_ sending assassins after you'?" Reborn asks.

I look away sharply, "Nothing. Never mind. As long as these ones weren't sent by the Vongola, then it's fine. They were pathetic, anyway. I can deal with them on my own."

"It sounds as if there'll be a lot more," Reborn surmises.

I eye him warily, "What're you getting at? Just tell it to me straight, Reborn."

"We Vongola take care of our own," He answers cryptically against my express wishes.

But it's not hard to infer what he means. If I join Sawada's family...then I have guaranteed protection from assassins. It makes sense for me to ally myself with them, but I can't just simply do that after hunting him down for my entire life. It seems...counter-productive. And not to mention, my whole existence has been in vain.

"We can offer you purpose," Reborn says.

I give a start, then glare at him, "Stop reading my mind," I grumble. But I know that he's right. This is probably the best offer that I'm ever going to get from anyone—much less the world's greatest hitman himself. It's the chance of a lifetime. But if I take him up on his offer, my life up until now would become meaningless.

I look at Reborn evenly, "With all due respect, Reborn, I refuse your offer. I'm not meant to be tied down to a family, even one of high prestige such as the Vongola Famiglia. And I say this because, call me dogmatic, but up until a couple of days ago, I was running away from Vongola assassins, and hell-bent on hunting down and killing the Vongola Decimo. There's no way that I'd be able to switch over to your side that quickly."

Instead of frowning like I'd expected, Reborn just smirks, "Alright, then, Kariya. Well said."

I take my leave and make my escape for my dumpster.

* * *

><p>I open my eyes, stretching my stiff back. There's a crick in my neck, and I pound it with my fist in an attempt to relieve it. My legs are numb, and when I shift to stretch them, I determine the reason for their unfeeling state.<p>

A cat yawns, uncurling from my lap. It stretches languidly, releasing another wide yawn, paws kneading my thighs. I squirm a little at the ticklish sensation, and its green eyes snap onto me. I reach out to pet it, and its back arches, hissing. I pull my hand back and it swipes at me before leaping away. I stand, stretching again. The sky is overcast this morning. It's a light grey sheet that signifies a drizzle.

As I make my way to Nami Chuu, I can't help but get caught up with the general cheer of the school—it's the last day of school before we take a break for the summer.

I can't help but wonder what summer will bring.

_What will summer be like?_

I squirm in discomfort. It's been quite a while since I've had a shower. I stink. And I hate it. I shuffle past people, keeping my head down, being careful not to make eye contact. Because eye contact equals communication, and communication equals conversation. Conversation means close-contact. And I doubt that my weak illusions at this point are even enough to fool the dumbest of simpletons.

"Morning, Kari-chan!" Yamamoto slings his arm across my shoulders.

I cringe away from him. _I guess not, then._

But the self-conscious feeling still remains.

As I pass him in the hallway, I will Kyoya not to see the tattered clothes that I'm wearing. I've discovered that it takes particular effort to uphold illusions that can fool Hibari or Reborn. Are they just naturally perceptive? I was never much good at creating or upholding illusions—I don't even know how I do it.

I guess the first time that I actually became aware that I was creating illusions was back when I was seven. That's when the attacks started happening—well, that I was aware of. The Vongola had started hunting me down around that time, and I was lucky enough that the illusions had sprung up automatically.

But of course, they still weren't enough. So if Tanya and Alexei hadn't found me..._I wouldn't be here right now._

"Good morning, Kariya-san," Sawada smiles at me.

I dip my head in acknowledgement, looking away quickly. Sawada tilts his head, regarding me in a strange fashion, but otherwise doesn't question me. I quash the relief and gratitude that floods my chest.

_Dammit, Decimo. Look what you did._

* * *

><p>I wait until sensei's back is turned to roll up a paper ball and throw it at the back of his head, "Hayate...Hey, Hayate!" It's amusing how he reacts to my teasing—it might just be the most fun I've had in a long while.<p>

He whips around in his seat, "How many times do I have to tell you? It's _Hayato!_" he hisses at me.

"Eh? Hayate? What?"

"Call me _Hayato!_"

"Oh, so we're on a first-name basis now?"

"What? NO! You know what? Just don't talk to me, you stupid woman!"

"Alright, Hayate," I shrug, turning away to hide my laugh.

"Asunake! Gokudera! Not paying attention, yelling across my classroom, and disrupting your fellow students! I'll give you a detention!"

Both of us look over lazily at him. The threat doesn't mean much to the either of us. Hayate's scowl is more impressive than mine—mostly because he's had more practice, and while I sit all the way in the back row, he's able to glower at sensei from the front row.

Sensei fumbles with his book, quickly fixing his glasses, flustered. Luckily for him, he's saved by the bell. But, still angry from his embarrassment up there, he assigns extra homework for the break. Not that I'll do it. I stuff the pages and notebooks into my laptop bag like you're not supposed to. But really, with all the shit that the device has been through with me, I doubt stuffing extra stuff into the bag with it will do much damage.

I sigh, making my way through the crowds, taking great care not to get too near them, or let them get close to me. I don't think anyone's noticed that I don't have a pair of indoor shoes—I wear one pair of shoes inside as well as out. If any mud or dirt's been tracked inside/all over the school, it's probably me. Though...there _is _a small chance that it's the baseball team.

But I open up my locker and peer inside at the small, empty space before closing it quickly. As everyone else is still crowded around their own lockers, giggling and chattering away, I walk right out of the school, slinging my bag over my shoulder and humming a tuneless tune. It's pouring outside. I don't have an umbrella, but it's alright. I love getting caught in the rain.

I let the rain trickle down my face, smiling up at the cloudy sky. No, I should be fine—it doesn't look like thunderclouds. Just nice, light rain.

"Kariya! Hey, Kari! Wait up!" I turn to face the voice and the splashing.

"Oh, hey, Yamamoto," I smile, but inwardly groan. _What does he want?_

"Do you have an umbrella?"

I shake my head, ready to turn down his offer of sharing his umbrella.

But he doesn't offer—looks like he's forgotten his as well. He just frowns a little at me, "You're going to get sick like that."

I look down at my dress shirt. My (used-to-be-)_ white_ dress shirt. I cross my arms, "No big d—"

He drapes his coat around my shoulders before I can refuse and then laughs at my expression.

I continue my trek home—to the dumpster—scowling. _Now__ how'm I gonna' lose him?_

He falls in step beside me, hands behind his head, "So, where are you headed, Kari-chan?"

I inhale sharply. _Go Riri! Go Riri! Give him his jacket back! Tell him off! Go away! Shoo, Yamamoto. Leave me alone! Please!_

"Just past the park," I answer before internally facepalming. _Why did I tell him?_

"Oh? To the shopping district?"

I nod quickly, not wanting to disclose any more information.

"Oh yeah, your house is nearby too. You live pretty close to me."

I internally groan. _Great. Now he's gonna'—_

"Hey! That means I can walk you to school as well, Kari-chan!" He smiles cheerfully, then he says in a low voice, "Maa, Kari-chan," He sounds so serious that I glance back at him with wide eyes, "Didn't...your house burn down...?"

I ignore him, turning away. I look both ways before trotting across the street. A car whizzes by, leaving Yamamoto on the other side of the road. He glances around quickly, then runs after me, "Hey, Kari-chan, be careful!"

I refrain from glaring at him. I shake my head like a wet dog, water droplets flying.

Yamamoto laughs, then shakes his head as well, drenching me. I allow a small smile. Only because he reminds me of a real dog. One of those big, slobbering ones that you can't help but love. _He only _reminds_ me of one, mind you_.

I wish I had a dog...No...can't afford one. I'm so broke that I shouldn't even have the right to _think_ of a dog.

Which brings me back to the issue at hand. Getting rid of Smiley.

"—sometime, ne, Kari-chan?"

"Hrmm? Oh...Mmm. Yeah, I guess." _Does he not take the hint?_

He remains ever cheerful, ever...ignorant.

There's a girl stopped at a corner, peering at something, when she hears us she turns and runs away. _…What's her pr—! Oh!_

I gasp, stopping. Yamamoto stops as well.

"It's you!" I get down on all fours, leaning down to confirm the sighting, "Oh! C'mere little kitty...C'mere! I'm not gonna' hurt you!"

The little brindled cat hisses at me, then swipes at me, leaving a scratch across my cheek. It's the same one by the dumpster. I recoil. Yamamoto laughs, and I smile wryly, "Well, you know what they say; animals can tell who good people and bad people are."

"Maa, that's not necessarily true... Look, this little guy's just scared, so he lashes out."

I stare at him. This simpleton's words...actually have some sense to them...

_...What the hell'm I thinking?_

I grimace, and reach out for the cat again. It's shivering, and shaking in the muddy water, its fur matted and dirty. It growls at me, then bites my finger. I yelp, pulling back. The cat soars past me, streaking away down the street.

Headlights flash, and I cry out.

The cat freezes in its tracks, staring at the approaching danger. I leap forward. The car's horn blares, and I'm too late. The girl that I had seen runs out to scoop the cat up.

_She'll make it...Yeah, she's there. __**Wait**__. __**What?**_

She trips halfway and it all happens so fast.

The cat makes it across safely, pacing back and forth anxiously on the sidewalk. _Mrow..._

The driver looks shell-shocked, clutching the steering wheel with white knuckles. Then the tires screech as he drives _right over her prone body_.

I scream in anger, running out to the little girl.

She's unconscious, panting, struggling for breath. Her entire chest is caving in—her ribs are definitely broken. One side of her head is steeped in blood, and I can't tell whether it be from a head wound, or from the blood pooling around her.

_She looks so...small._

I take a breath to compose myself, then turn to Yamamoto, "Call 119. Did you get the licence plate?"

He pulls his cell phone out, "No, I didn't."

I scowl. I missed it as well; it all happened so fast.

I cover her gently with Yamamoto's jacket, and stand, pacing in a large circle around them. I can't do anything for her. I just hope the emergency crews get here quickly. I continue to pace, hoping that no more cars pass this way. No such luck.

One frantic driver speeds past us, and doesn't bother stopping to offer help. She leaves us with one thing though, a splash of muddy water. Yamamoto, who was talking on his cell a ways away, was spared.

I growl, shivering slightly. But I immediately turn towards the girl. She's growing pale. Shouldn't I...elevate the wound? But...she's bleeding everywhere! _What'm I—? You know what? Leave her. Leave her; run. This isn't your problem, why do you care?_

I grimace stoically, and resume my pacing. If they don't get here within the next few minutes, she's not going to make it anyway.

"Kari-chan," Yamamoto walks up to me.

"Are they coming?" I ask tersely.

He nods, "Yeah. But, are _you_ alright?"

I stop my pacing to stare incredulously at him. _Me?_ I splutter, "M-Me? Don't be stupid! It wasn't me who was run over."

I look back at the little girl. Her eyelids flutter, and her brow furrows in pain.

Kneeling beside her, I growl, "Oi…you. Stay awake. If you sleep now, you'll die. Stay awake. I ain't waiting with you just for you to die on me. C'mon."

I murmur to her, and when her eyes flicker open, I see that her right eye is gone. There's a bloody, gaping hole where a matching violet doe-eye should have been.

Her remaining eye is glazed over in pain. "It hurts…" she manages faintly. I can barely hear her. Her lung must be punctured.

"I know it hurts, but suck it up. Talk to me. Stay awake." I snap.

"The cat?"

It meows and pads over to nuzzle her undamaged cheek. She gives a weak smile. Then emergency crews arrive, and Yamamoto pulls me back as they cart the girl away.

It's not until Yamamoto's hand rests on my shoulder that I realize that I'm shivering. _Her eye…Her __eye__…Just blood and gore. _

I gag, and crouch down, holding my head.

"Hey, hey, Kari-chan!"

"Is she alright?"

I pull my hands away from my face to find them smeared with blood. I gag again, and this time, I cough as I try and force the rising nausea down.

"She's in shock."

"What do we do?"

"We'll take her in the ambulance along with the other girl."

Yamamoto gently guides me the ambulance, and we both get on. I let him steer me, and follow numbly. Her eye…Did you see? Gone. She'll never be able to see from that eye again. And her lung…collapsed. Broken ribs. Broken…Bleeding…

But…why? Why'm I so scared? I've seen lots of blood before. _So much. So much. All over my hands._ This isn't anything **new**.

I sit where they tell me to sit, and I feel Yamamoto's arm go around me, and my shivers get worse. I try to push him away, but my brain has shut itself down. The image is branded in my mind. _Her eye, gone. Broken, battered. And she smiles as she sees the cat. Bloody, and __smiling__._

I shudder, and gag again at the stench of blood.

The entire way to the hospital, I sit there, staring into space. I hear the collected voices of the emergency workers trying to stabilize the girl. Yamamoto asks me more than once if I'm okay, but I can't find the words to answer him.

Upon arrival, the girl is whisked off into the emergency room, and then, as an afterthought, they move me into the waiting room. There, I continue staring dazedly, image branded into my mind's eye.

Yamamoto leaves my side, and I feel the loss of warmth instantly. My eyes flicker up, searching for him through the sullen crowd of faces in the waiting room. "Excuse me, Miss," I hear his voice, and my gaze zeroes in, "I think my friend's going into shock. She needs treatment."

"I'm sorry. We're very busy at the moment. Please take a seat," The woman says.

"She needs to see a doctor, _now_," Yamamoto insists.

When she protests, he takes her arm gently and guides her over to stand in front of me. I shiver as the shadow falls over me, and I look up at her face. As my eyes meet hers, her expression transforms into one of professional calm, "Alright. Please follow me."

Yamamoto takes my hand, and helps me up. We follow the nurse down a series of hallways that melt into a muddle in my mind. I'm told to sit on a bed, and a doctor examines me. He takes my heart rate, checks my responsiveness and reflexes, and for the most part, I ignore him.

But I find that everything is beginning to clear up again.

"How long has it been since she last bathed?" The doctor asks, and Yamamoto glances over at me.

My face burns red, and I refuse to look up. I continue to stare at my feet.

The doctor continues, and Yamamoto turns back to him, "She isn't physically injured. She's not suffering from any external wounds, or internal, for that matter. She's not technically in shock. Rather, she's just a bit shaken up."

The old doctor gives me a sympathetic look, and I can't be bothered to glare at him. He looks back at Yamamoto, "You two can stay here until she feels better. Just try and keep her warm as best as you can."

"Alright," Yamamoto nods and thanks the doctor.

The man gives me a smile before leaving. I feel really cold, and I crawl under the covers of the hospital bed.

Yamamoto walks over to my side, "Are you okay now, Kari-chan?"

I give him a small nod, turning over on the bed, away from his gaze. How _shameful_ to be seen like that.

He seems to catch on, and he backs away, "I'm just gonna' go make some phone calls. I'll be back in a bit, okay?"

I don't reply. I hear a small sigh, and receding footsteps. I wait until I can no longer hear them, and only then do I sit up.

Yes, it's a hospital. It seems like an ordinary one. It doesn't appear to harbour any dangers. Nonetheless, I feel that I have to check the building out with my own eyes. I swing my feet over the side of the bed, draping the blanket over my shoulders, taking in my surroundings.

I hear running footsteps, this time, approaching. Voices drift to my ears.

"Dear, Nagi was in a traffic accident!" A woman calls.

"Thanks to this, the business negotiations will have to be postponed," A man's voice replies.

"All this, for the sake of saving a cat!" The woman scoffs, "It seems her right eye and some of her internal organs are already done for."

This piques my interest. These are the girl's—Nagi's— parents!

"They say that she can't be saved."

My eyes widen and my breath hitches.

"Hey now..." I force myself to pay attention as the man begins to speak, "The doctor says that she can still be saved if she receives an organ transplant from a blood relative with the same blood type."

_That means that there's still a chance, ne?_

"You've got to be kidding me! Chop up my body for a child's sake?"

Hatred towards the woman builds up in my chest, and my fists clench.

The woman continues, "Ever since she was little, that child has never made any friends. Nor can anyone work out what she's thinking. She never became close to you either, did she? It isn't just me. No one wished for that child to stay alive this long."

My heart pounds, and my mind hurts.

"Oi...Nagi will hear you..." The man says.

"That child is in the ICU. She can't hear anything."

A cell-phone rings, and there's a click as the man presumably checks the text, "Oh. It's the company. I'm going back to work. Do as you like."

The man's heavy footsteps fade away.

"Tsk. That good for nothing child. Always causing us trouble."

I push myself off of the bed, the blanket falling off of my shoulders. Walking out of the room, I follow the voice until I find the woman standing in a hallway.

She continues to mutter to herself, "She should just die. That way—"

"Hey." I growl, coming to a stop in front of the woman.

"What do you want?"

I look up at her, angry tears flowing down my face, "I want you to shut the hell up. Even if Nagi can't hear you, even if I don't know her, I want you to shut up. How could her own mother talk about her like that?"

"You don't understand, little girl. It's none of your business."

"It's not my business. But who gave you the right to speak about her like that? You're the only one who can save her life right now! You're her _mother!_" I yell.

"Che!" She scoffs, "Get away from me!" She strikes me across the face, and I fall against the wall.

The sharp tapping of her heels ebbs away, until she exits the building.

I'm alone in the hallway again, staring in disbelief. _I don't understand. She's her mother...but how could she—? Why—? I—I can't believe it._ I refuse to accept that as an answer.

I make my way back to my room, wiping away my angry tears. Just as I reach it, I feel an unfamiliar presence behind me. Turning slowly, I stare down at a white-haired little boy. He has the most peculiar expression on his face—he has a smile filled with curiosity...yet it feels..._wrong_, somehow.

The white-haired child approaches me. He looks to be about seven, eight years-old, wearing a white shirt with a grey sweater-vest. His look is completed with a red ribbon tied in a small bow on his chest. I meet his grey eyes. He looks...so familiar. He looks like one of those classic cute little boys in animes. But I'm absolutely _sure_ that I've seen him somewhere before. But _where_?

He stops in front of me, smiling. I blink, shivering slightly. Wherever I know him from, I definitely know that he doesn't smile like this—like he knows more about what's going on than I do. His smile is sweet and..._Really_ creepy.

That's when I get a good look at his eyes. It's like there are stars in them—they glisten. "Hello," he says.

"H-Hey," I reply, glancing around. _Where's Yamamoto? Where's everybody?_ I fidget uneasily. I'm getting a bad feeling from this child—the same feeling that I got from those guys in the alley. _But really!_ I force myself to calm down. _It's just a kid. What's there to be afraid of?_ "Um...Where are your parents?" I ask, trying not to shift away from him.

"They're not here," he answers with a small giggle.

My skin crawls at the sound, "Oh...I see. Are you visiting someone, then?"

"You could say."

_What kind of kid plays word games with people? _My eyebrow twitches, "Who are you visiting?"

"Someone important to me, and someone who will become important to you in your future," His grey eyes seem to see right through me, and I feel my expression twist into one of horror.

"Kari-chan!"

I turn at the sound of my name. Yamamoto holds the door open, waving at me. Lightning illuminates him, and he turns away from me, twisting in the doorway to beckon some people in.

I look back at the little boy. He just giggles again, walking away, "I'll see you later, Daemon child."

My eyes widen, and I run forward, "Wait! I know who you are!" I reach out to grab the child's arms, trying to hold him in place, but cry out as my arms pass through him and I skid along the tiles, crashing into the floor. I quickly roll over, onto my knees. I wince—the scabs must've reopened.

The stars in the child's grey eyes sparkle with quiet amusement, "You do, do you? Good. Then let this be your hint: Stay away from him. If you don't, _I'll kill you._"

Then the child disappears.

"Who? Who should I stay away from?" I leap to my feet, demanding the child to answer, but even the empty hallway does not respond. I deliberate, "Does he mean...Sawada?"

My brow furrows. _He wants me to stay away from Sawada? _If he knows that I'm from the Daemon Famiglia...then there's no telling what or how much that kid knows. Maybe he knows that Reborn asked me to join Decimo's family, and they're trying to keep me from joining.

"Chyeah right! Like I'd fall for that one!" I yell at no one in particular.

"Kariya-san!" Sawada runs down the hallway, closely followed by Gokudera and Yamamoto with Reborn on his shoulder. But what really surprises me is that Sasagawa tagged along. Is _he_ now part of the Decimo's Famiglia?

_No matter._

"Reborn!" I call, then mutter, "I've...reconsidered. I...accept your offer."

The hitman smirks knowingly. _He probably knew I'd slink over to their side all along. _The thought makes me frown.

I stand before Sawada, "You. Vongola Decimo. I'll serve you from now on."

"Kariya-san! Not you too! Reborn!" He whines, then turns to me, "We came to check on you, Kariya-san. That's why. You're my friend."

I look down at my feet, playing with the fraying end of my skirt.

He continues in a softer tone, "Are you alright? Yamamoto told us what happened. Is that girl okay?"

I shake my head solemnly, "I don't think so...I don't know."

"Idiot," Gokudera mutters, and I turn the full force of all of my frustrations onto him.

"You! What right do you have to call me that? Come over here and say that to my face!"

He stalks over so we're glaring at each other face-to-face and repeats the word: "Idiot."

"You're such a brat—!

_**"You're all talking extremely loudly!**__"_ Sasagawa yells—although I'm starting to suspect that that's actually his idea of an 'inside voice'.

"You're the one that's loud! Be quiet Turf Top! We're in a hospital!" Gokudera growls back irately.

"Yeah...Senpai...keep it down. It's already after-hours," Yamamoto assuages with a light laugh.

"W should get going, then," Sawada says, "Kariya-san, we'll walk you back to wherever you're staying."

I freeze for a moment, staring at him.

"Hm," Reborn smirks.

_I've been trapped again._

"Kariya," Reborn calls, "Why don't you tell them where you've been staying for the last few weeks?"

_The dumpster, of course._ But I can't own up to that. I back away from Gokudera, and avert my gaze from their pressing stares, my face heating up, "It doesn't matter where."

"And when did you have your last real meal?" Reborn pushes.

I grit my teeth. The last time I ate a real meal was about a week ago, when Gokudera had given me that store-bought bento and I hadn't even gotten around to eating that exalted box of Pocky before that stupid oaf crushed it!

"That doesn't matter either!" I snap.

_Those octopus wieners were good, weren't they?_

My stomach growls loudly, and I pound it with my fist. "Shush, tummy!" I reprimand, face redder than an octopus wiener covered with ketchup. My stomach growls yet _again_ at the thought.

"Kariya. You can stay at Tsuna's house."

"_**Eh?**_ Reborn! Don't go around giving people permission to stay at my house! We barely have any room left!"

_'Left'?_ I tilt my head at the word, mentally going through all of the connotations of it. Then I realize what Reborn said, answering with a: "What?"

"You can stay at Tsuna's house," Reborn repeats, ignoring Sawada's protests, "...After all, a subordinate should follow their superior's instructions."

"But I'm not—" I start angrily.

"I became your superior the moment you pledged your obedience to Tsuna. You are now part of the Vongola Famiglia, and I outrank you. Let's go home, Tsuna," He hops onto Sawada's head, "I'm tired."

My stomach growls again, and I wrap my arms around my stomach, following behind them. "I need to recharge my iPod and laptop anyway…" I mutter. Then I call out in a louder voice: "Will there be food?"

"Mama will cook some," Reborn answers simply.

"...Alright," I follow along, satisfied for now.

* * *

><p>"Welcome home Tsu-kun, Reborn-kun!" she calls, "Ara? Who's this?" she smiles at me.<p>

I scuffle my feet, hands clenching. I don't know how to respond to her question.

"This is Asunake Kariya. She'll be staying with us for a bit."

"Reborn! I told you! Don't go around deci—"

"Alright! I'll go prepare the spare room, and I'll start the bath for you—I can also get some old clothes for you, though, they might not fit properly," she says kindly. When she sees my lack of response, she says in a softer tone, "Ne? How does that sound, Kariya-chan?"

"Kaa-san!" Sawada cries in the background.

I look away, staring intently at a framed portrait of the family.

She smiles gently at me, and places a light hand on my shoulder. Then she addresses all of us, "I haven't started on dinner yet. Is there anything you would like?"

"...Octopus wieners..." I murmur.

"Ara? Alright, then. I'll make some for you, Kariya-chan!"

Reborn smirks and I redden.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Who was the child? If you can figure out whom the child is from your wide background of anime, then _that_ is your hint to later events...or unearthing of pasts. *Waggles eyebrows*

Anyway, I've posted a new story, **P s y c h e ~[ButterflyHeart]~.** It sort of ties in with this story—like a spin-off, I guess you could say. Give it a look-see if you so wish. Actually, please do. It will actually (maybe) answer questions, and create some new ones. (You'll notice if you've already read some of it, that some questions created here are answered there...and perhaps...vice versa...)

I've planned many, many spin-offs like it, featuring different OCs of mine. All of their plots revolve around the central plotline of Starfire, and each give hints for some of the others' plots and such. Get it? Good. If you don't get it, read them and find out.

I've already decided the pairings for all of these said spin-offs, _save for one_, which you readers will be able to vote for on a poll on my profile which will be put up much later (and it won't be this one. This is one that I'm actually _very_ passionate about, so sorry, I call veto on this fic—RAWR). I'll give you choices for that story when I get around to posting it—as they coincide with this story, I'll refrain from posting them until the main story (Starfire) gets to that point.

What do you think the final pairing of this story will be? Go vote on my profile!

**Just so you know, I'm allowing anonymous reviews! Review please, dear readers~! Comments are greatly appreciated. **


	10. Welcome to Your Vongola Summer!

**Chapter 10**

**Welcome to Your Vongola Summer!**

* * *

><p>"Yamamoto-kun, Gokudera-kun, you're both welcome to stay for dinner too!"<p>

Those were the words I dreaded to hear.

I eat the octopus wieners in silence, taking joy in biting off each leg individually. Finding it a bit rude to point out the fact that most of the octopus wieners only have seven legs, I keep my head down, not meeting anyone's eyes. I keep interaction to a minimum, simply answering with a nod or a shake of my head.

"Kariya-chan, remember to eat some vegetables," she smiles at me while I wolf down some tofu.

Mostly, Nana-san (which she'd insisted that I call her), talks to Yamamoto, and sometimes Gokudera.

"Haha~ Baseball season's just getting started. Coach is making us train tomorrow, to get some newcomers into shape for the game next week."

"Is baseball all you can think about?"

"Gokudera-kun!"

"Haha...Mostly~!"

"Che!"

I take quick, small bites of my food, and shovelling the rice into my mouth like I'm not supposed to. I never so much as even touched a vegetable. _Does tofu count as vegetables? Hm._

"And what about you, Gokudera-kun?"

"Uh—Me?" is his intelligent response.

I place my eating utensils into the sink, excusing myself._ I think I've saved Bomber-Boy from an awkward conversation_.

"Ah! Kariya-chan!" Nana-san pushes her chair back, bustling over to my side, "I've left some clothes in the bathroom for you. I'm not sure if they'll fit or not, but please, feel free to use them. There's a pink toothbrush in a cup by the sink that's also for you. Just leave your dirty clothes in the hamper, and I'll wash them for you later. The bathroom is to the left, at the end of the hall. Call me if you need me, alright?"

I nod in thanks. Their eyes follow me out of the room, and I'm happy to escape their gazes. No doubt they'll start discussing—no, _plotting_—once I set foot out of the kitchen. I hurry down the hall, not wanting to hear their whisperings.

Shaking from the metaphysical effort, I step into the bathroom, closing the door behind me and leaning against it for a moment. I breathe an equally shaky sigh as the remnants of the mediocre illusion crumble around me. I remove the chain from around my neck and hang it on the hook on the door—I don't want to place it down and risk it falling down the drainpipe. I let my clothes slip off onto the floor, and I soon follow them down, the cold tiles of the bathroom shocking me awake. The metal sheaths make a muted clink as they make contact with the porcelain.

The scabs on my knees crack open and they sting as fresh blood begins to bleed through again. At this rate, they'll never heal properly—and I'm past worrying about scars. The pale yellow of the faded bruise on my jaw becomes visible again, as are the scratches that cover a generous portion of my arms.

The steam in the room rises, wafting off the surface of the water and swirls around me in teasing patterns. My hand comes up to meet the wisps, then cuts through them viciously.

I hiss a little as I get into the tub, the hot water seeping into all of my various wounds—cleansing, but painful. I lower myself into the water slowly. At first, the heat is impertinent, and I almost jump back out. But I close my eyes and force myself to relax. Once my skin grows accustomed to the temperature, I begin scrubbing mercilessly at my skin. I don't stop until I'm lobster-coloured.

The stinging is more or less uniform now—but I feel _clean._ Ahh. It's been too long since I last felt this nice, this relaxed. But after a while of just lazing around in the steaming water, I shake off the feeling of ease and tranquility. I'm holding up the bathroom for other people. I get out of the tub a tad unwillingly.

I tug the wakizashis out of my sleeves and leave them on the countertop for now.

I toss my wet clothes into the hamper a little hesitantly, as if the simple action of releasing the cloth from my grip is releasing my final grasp on the handlebars—the leash—of my life. Yet, I let go. I throw them all in save for my bra—which, really, isn't _that_ wet. I frown a little in discomfort—I'm still unfamiliar to these surroundings, and I'd rather not get too close or intimate with these people, no matter what Reborn says.

I smile wryly as I watch the garments fall to the bottom of the basket, then turn, shivering slightly to look at the pile of clothes that were left for me.

There's a black t-shirt, a set of red plaid pyjamas. I quickly pull them on, and find that the pyjamas are too big for me. It continuously falls off of my shoulder, and I have to keep pulling it up. I breathe a sigh as I realize the fresh underwear is only just too big. The baggy pants, I can deal with—I roll them up to about knee-length.

I squeeze a bit of mint toothpaste on the pink toothbrush, and as I brush my teeth, I stare at the girl behind the glass. I reach out, wiping away the condensation and feeling the cool mirror beneath my fingertips. I run my index finger over the girl's cuts and bruises. They look painful. I, on the other hand, feel...better. Loud voices are muffled by the circulation fan and the wooden door that separates us. I rinse the toothbrush before leaving it neatly in a cup on the sink, making sure to line it up with the rest of the items. Unceremoniously pushing my wakizashis up the sleeves of the new pyjamas, I then ball the end of the sleeves in my hands to trap the sheaths there. There are no holsters sewn into these sleeves, so the sheaths jostle about, making me nervous about every movement—I can't risk them falling out and possibly scaring Nana-san. I make a mental note to make straps for the sheaths instead. I walk out of the bathroom, wet hair air-drying on a towel draped over my shoulders.

My previous thoughts are proven right as I see Sawada hopping from foot to foot just outside the door. His face is red, and an air of urgency surrounds him. As soon as the door opens, Sawada rushes past me into the washroom. I'm pushed forward as he slams the door shut behind me.

"About time, woman!" Gokudera scowls, "You made Juudaime wait for you!"

I blink, staring at him incredulously, then I turn around to look at the closed door. At the tinkling sound of a person..._relieving themselves_, I smirk. But it's the sigh of relief and satisfaction that comes from the other side of the door that causes me to burst out laughing. I have to pull the towel over my face to smother my mirth. I continue to shake with laughter even as Tsuna makes his way out of the bathroom, red-faced.

_Oh, bathroom humour and irony._

* * *

><p>I sit on the bed, tucking my legs under the blankets in an awkward position. I've almost forgotten how nice a bed feels like. I sigh in happiness—I'm content for now.<p>

"Kariya."

_And of course that peace is broken._

I look up to see Reborn enter the room. He jumps up onto the edge of the bed and I dip my head in acknowledgement. Something about him still sets me on edge. I don't think that I'll ever be able to relax around Reborn.

"How are you feeling now?"

"I'm better," I answer neutrally.

Reborn jumps right into the heart of the matter, "That girl that was in the hospital—the one that was hit by the car—Did she say anything to you?"

"...She asked about the cat that she was trying to save. That was about it. Why?"

"Hm," He deliberates for a moment, then answers my question, "She disappeared from her room right after we left."

"...W-What?"

"I spoke to one of my connections. They were unable to find any documentation on her—it's as if she never existed."

"Then…does that mean…" I trail off, then rephrase my question, "Reborn…Does that mean she's part of the mafia as well?"

"I don't know yet," Reborn says thoughtfully, "My informants are searching through documents and gathering intel as we speak."

"Ahh! …Lambo!" A small voice cries.

The door is pushed open, and said cow print-clad child runs into the room, chanting, "Baa-san! Baa-san's here!"

"..."

"Baa-san! Baa-san! Look, Fuuta! Baa-san's here to play with the great Lambo-san!"

"...It's you," I say when I recognize the cow-printed terror.

"Oi, you stupid Cow, you're interrupting me," Reborn shoots Lambo a look.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you, Kari-nee," The other little boy looks up at me, scooping Lambo up.

"Umm. It's fine."

He smiles sweetly, "My name's Fuuta."

"Hi..." I'm unsure of how to respond.

But he just says a quick goodnight and carries the Bovino child out, "It's time to go to sleep, Lambo."

"I don't wanna! I don't wanna...!" Lambo's protests fade away, and I turn my attention back onto Reborn.

"They all rushed down to the hospital when they got Yamamoto's phone call."

My eyes narrow.

"They were all worried about you, you know...?"

"Why would they be?" I mutter stubbornly, pulling the covers over my head.

"I'll let you think about that, Kariya. You know the answer already."

The light flicks off, and the room is engulfed in darkness.

I can't bring myself to sleep. Some old, animal instinct continues to niggle away at the back of my mind, refusing to let me fall asleep. _Danger,_ it tells me, _it's __dangerous__ here._ So, to appease this gut feeling, I tuck my weapons below my pillow for easy access if need be.

A sliver of light cuts through the darkness, landing on my face. I open my eyes, squinting a little into the light. The small face of Sawada Tsunayoshi is seen.

"Eh...um. Goodnight, Kariya-san."

"Goodnight, Sawada," I answer, yawning slightly. The door closes with a soft _click_, and I settle back into bed.

I don't know when I'm finally able to sleep, but I succumb to it eventually because I'm dreaming. It's always the same dream—always. It's the same flowery field, the same gurgling creek, and the same waving meadow. Yes, the setting is always the same.

_That's all I can remember._

I know that there's a clown involved somehow. It's garbed in white, and whirls around me, almost like it's mocking me. There's lilac and lavender woven in with my garbled memory of the prancing Pierrot. But what jolts me awake every time is the terrible sensation of falling.

I'll be doing something in the dream—something I can never remember, can never scrounge up from the corners of my mind—and then, suddenly, the ground will collapse underneath me. I'll twist and turn, reaching for the sky quickly shrinking. The great, encompassing sky grows into a dot in the distance.

Every time, I'll think to myself: _It was a __**lie**__._ And I'll never know what the lie was, but I'll be left with a bitter feeling coursing through me.

There was no solid ground that I was standing on. It was an iceberg that had broken off of the polar ice cap, and was drifting out to sea. And I had fallen from it, drowning, sinking, falling farther and farther away from the Earth and Sky.

That's when I'll jolt awake, wondering how the blue and red eyes were involved, mingling with the lilacs and lavenders. And it will all swim in dizzying circles around my head.

And so, the first day of summer begins with a nightmare, and a serious coughing fit.

* * *

><p>I open my eyes hazily at the sound of voices. Reaching out to the approaching figure, I quickly retract my arm once I start coughing again. I roll over, blinking blearily, "Ta—Tanya. I feel...a bit...sick. Heh."<p>

"Kariya...san...? What did you call me?"

The fuzzy images clear and I scowl, lying through my teeth, "I said, 'Tsuna, good morning'."

Sawada takes in my fearsome look and quails disbelievingly, turning away from me, "Reborn, what's wrong with her?"

"She probably has a cold from getting caught in the rain yesterday."

"Juudaime! Stay back! She's might have something highly contagious!"

"Go get some cool water and some towels," Reborn tells Sawada.

"I'm fine," I insist, "It's just a cough. It's not like I'm dying from pneumonia or something."

"It could get **extremely** worse though, so just rest up, Kariya!"

"When did _you_ get here, Sasagawa?"

"Oh! I came here with Kyoko! She heard that you were staying here and she wanted to visit you! Kyoko!" he calls and I cringe from the volume level. When there's no reply, he throws his head back and yells again, "_**Kyoko!**_"

"Alright! We get it, Turf Top! Now shut up!" Gokudera nudges the door open with his foot while holding a pile of towels in his arms. Sawada follows him in with a container of water. The contents slosh around as he struggles to balance it. Sasagawa spins around to confront Gokudera, "What was that, Tako-Head?"

"I said—"

"Watch it Turf Top!"

"HIEE—!"

"Juudaime—!"

"Sawada—!"

"Gah," I say, spitting water out of my mouth sullenly. The container spins, upside-down on my head before falling off into my lap. The sheets, the clothes...everything around me is drenched.

"Kariya-san! I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

"Onii-san! Tsuna-kun! What happened?" Kyoko runs into the room, eyes settling on me, "Kariya-chan!"

Kyoko's big golden eyes quickly assess the situation, then she ushers the boys out, but not before pulling another person inside with her.

"Good morning, Kariya-chan," Kyoko says, taking the now-empty container off of me and placing it on the ground.

"Heya..." I mumble, swallowing the cough that tickling its way up my throat. _Good morning Riri, indeed... _My eyes shift onto the other person in the room.

"Hi! I'm Miura Haru! You can call me Haru-chan!"

"Morning Haru," I greet, ignoring the honorific, "I'm Kariya. Call me whatever you'd like."

"...Alright, Kariya-chan!" she smiles easily, and if she's perturbed by my lack of honorifics, she doesn't show it.

"Kariya-chan, you really should change out of those," Kyoko gestures towards the soaked pyjamas.

"I don't have anything else to change into," I reply simply.

"Well, you should get out of those wet clothes, or else you might get sick," Haru adds.

_Oh the irony._

"Maybe...you should borrow some of Tsuna-kun's clothes for now, then," Kyoko says, her eyes scanning the room.

Haru gasps, "Kariya-chan? Wearing Tsuna-san's clothes?"

I automatically shake my head, knowing that this is heading into dangerous waters, "They'd be too big for me. Trust me, I'm fine like this. Thank you anyway."

"No, that's not good, Kariya-chan!"

"Yeah, we want to help you!"

My breath hitches, and I look at them with wide eyes. But they're already turning away, "We'll go out right now and buy you some stuff, then."

"Uhh—No! I mean, it's fine."

"No, we insist, Kariya-chan. We love shopping anyway!" Haru smiles.

"What size are you, Kariya-chan?" Kyoko asks.

"Umm...I don't...know?" I answer vaguely in an attempt to dissuade them.

Haru tilts her head, looking me over, "I think you might be a few sizes bigger than me, what do you think, Kyoko-chan?"

"Mmm? Yeah, I think so too. I think you'd be a size bigger than me," Kyoko deliberates, then she grins, "We'll just buy all sorts of clothes in different sizes, and you can try them on for us later, alright?"

I cover my face with the corner of the blanket, looking pointedly away, out of the window. But I mumble my thanks. They giggle and exit the room, "We'll see you in a bit, Kariya-chan. Change out of those wet clothes first!"

They grab the empty container, taking it with them. I sigh as the door closes behind them. _Why won't any of them listen to me?_ The door coincidentally opens again while I drift into another coughing spell. _Their timing really sucks._

The first thing I ask when they step foot in the room is: "Can you pass me my laptop? I need to catch up with the latest chapters of Naruto! I _need_ to know what happens next!" There's nothing else for me to do, and I'm in no mood to get up anyway.

"Che. _That's_ what you're worried about right now? I can't believe you didn't die before meeting Juudaime. It's a wonder how you lasted so long on your own," Gokudera scoffs.

"Good luck? Fate?" I suggest, shrugging.

Reborn looks on thoughtfully, and I know that he seriously doubts that. Now that that's been brought up, I realize that I've never really thought about it. It's true that I've been targeted and tracked down by assassins...but judging from their information networks and manpower..._if they had wanted me dead...well...I wouldn't be here right now._

So, either they didn't really want to kill me...or there was some other force screwing with them... Or maybe I was just lucky. It was all thanks to my ninja skills. Yes, that's the story that I'm sticking to. It was all due to me and my strengths—_I_ was the one that got me out of that mess...ne? And the alternative being that my life is being tampered with by an unseen force is too terrifying to even consider. So, no. _It was all me._

Reborn hops onto my shoulder. If it were anyone else but him, they would've long since ended up sprawled on the floor in at least a moderate amount of pain. My eyes dart over somewhat suspiciously, fixating him under an intense stare. He places a tiny hand on my flushed cheeks, then moves it to my forehead.

"What're you doing?" I demand in the nicest, most respectful voice I can muster up.

He moves his hand to my throat, and I stiffen for a moment. I force myself to relax when I realize he's checking my pulse. I quash the urge to squirm away from his touch.

"You have a fever," He concludes.

"It's just a cough," I resist stubbornly.

"Gokudera, Tsuna. Go and bring me all of the things on this list," Reborn holds out a..._scroll_ to Tsuna, and I can't help but snigger inwardly as the parchment unrolls itself. But, then I have to wonder where he pulled the list from...and if he prepared that list beforehand...

Gokudera just gawks at it, while Tsuna moans. But Bomber-Boy regains his composure, and flashes a smile at Tsuna, "Let's do this, Juudaime!" he says as he takes the list from Reborn and drags Tsuna out with him with a hurried, "We'll be back soon!"

I realize that none of them ended up getting my laptop for me. I frown slightly, glancing at the electronic device just out of my reach.

Reborn puts on an elephant hat that appears from seemingly nowhere; and even I have to admit it looks cute on him.

"What's the hat for?"

"You'll see," he pulls on a pair of boxing gloves as well and my stomach sinks.

I feel the onset of a headache. "Please, Reborn...Don't do it," I almost beg.

He smirks, ignoring my pleas, and walks out of the room, leaving me alone again, "Be a good subordinate and stay there."

"Che!" I growl.

Moments later, a super-pumped Sasagawa Ryohei races into the room, brandishing a case of Sunny-D. "_**Kariya!**_"

I double over, moaning from the pounding headache.

_"__**Elder Pao Pao told me to babysit you!"**_

"Alright, alright. Sunny-D."

"I'm Sasagawa Ryohei, leader of Nami Chuu's Boxing Club to the _**extreme!**__"_

"What—I—No! I know who you are...I meant, pass me a Sunny-D!"

"**Oh.**" He rips the plastic open and gives me a bottle. I open it quickly, quenching my growing thirst. I fucking love juice. **[1]**

I cap the bottle, placing it on the bedside table, and turn to Sunny-D. Yes, I have decided. That will be his new name.

"Hey, Sunny-D. Can you pass me my laptop?" I ask, hoping that at least _he_ will grant my request.

I'm surprised that he just accepts the name and complies quietly. He plugs the device in, handing it to me uncharacteristically carefully. He takes a seat beside me, watching my every move.

"Eh...It's okay. I can entertain myself for a while, Sasagawa. You don't have to stay here."

"Mm-mm," He closes his eyes, shaking his head, "Elder Pao Pao said to watch you _**carefully!**_"

I cringe, internally cursing Reborn, then sigh, "Alright, then."

_Is there really any point in arguing with him?_

I load a video of Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood while I catch up with the latest chapters of Naruto. I'm growing ever more aware of the intruding presence hovering just over my shoulder and look up to see Sasagawa's approving nod, "You have good taste, Otaku. _That_ is an extreme punch."

I look back at the webpage, "Umm...That's not a punch, Sasagawa. It's this special attack of Naruto's called _Rasengan."_

"Who is he, and where can I learn this 'Rasengan'? I want this guy's technique in my boxing club!"

"Uhh...He's in an anime...and I'm pretty sure his attack would be considered illegal in any case."

"Oh..." He seems to deflate a little, and I feel a twinge of guilt for quelling his passion.

"But let's try anyway!" I attempt to cheer him up with the first lame thing that comes to mind.

"_**Okay!**_" And he goes for it, re-energized.

"Mmm...Pass me a pen. Thanks. Now give me your hand."

When he does, I draw a tiny swirl in the middle of his palm. Placing the pen down, I laugh at the half-confused, half-concentrated look on his face, "Okay now...I want you to place your other hand just above that one. Yes, like that. Now focus hard on that swirly thing. I want you to mould your chakra into a perfect sphere in-between your hands."

His brow furrows in deep concentration, and his tongue sticks out the side of his mouth between his teeth. He gives a loud yell, and as it builds, he throws his arms into the air.

I blink confusedly, then applaud him. "Nice, Sunny-D," I say sarcastically, then, noticing the look on his face, I ask, "What's wrong?"

"I extremely don't get it!" He declares.

_That's to be expected._ I nod, "Chakra is like your spiritual power. Just think of it like the flow of energy through your body. You need to concentrate it into the palm of your hand."

He continues to stare at me. I shift my laptop to the side as it begins to heat up, "What's wrong now?"

"...I didn't mean chakra..._**What's a sphere**__**?**_"

* * *

><p>"Oi! Turf Top! Some...'Elder Pao Pao' was outside looking for you. He said he wanted you to go help Juudaime."<p>

"_**Alright.**_ I'll be back to finish my ninja training later, Otaku!"

"Bye Sunny-D! Remember, concentrate your chakra into a ball-shaped thing in the middle of your hand."

"Ah!" He nods in assent and leaves the room.

"Reborn-san told me to give this to you," he pulls something out of his pocket, tossing it to me, "He said that it's yours, and to always have it on you."

I fumble for a moment before it settles into my hand. It's a cell-phone. It's probably got a tracking device in it, or some sort of recording device. He won't let me forget that I'm part of the Vongola now—chained like a dog to its master.

I sneer in distaste.

_Like a __dog__, Riri. How do you like this? Your security over your freedom._

"What's that?" I ask, waiting until the resentment simmers down.

"Some of the things that Reborn-san wanted us to get." he places a bag of assorted items down on the desk, and I look at him quizzically before he answers my unspoken question, "I'm just dropping these things off; I'm going back to help Juudaime. You can't trust that Turf Top for anything!" Gokudera mutters darkly, crossing his arms. He glances at me. "Che. Troubling Juudaime..."

My eyes narrow, and I sit up, throwing the blankets off, "Fine! I'll leave, then, if you're so against me staying here!"

"Hayato. You were raised better than that. You treat women with courtesy," A smooth voice says from the doorway.

I watch with wide eyes, unsure of what to do as Gokudera turns to the pink-haired woman with a scowl ready. His face scrunches up in pain, and he manages a strangled, "Aneki...!" before doubling over, crushing the lower half of my body.

I react accordingly. "Get off!" I yell, and kick him off of me.

The pink-haired woman, his 'aneki'—his sister—walks over, propping him up against the side of the bed, before looking at me, "So you're Stella."

"Stella?" I repeat.

She holds up the chain, with my ring dangling on the end.

I gasp, then scowl, "That's _mine_."

She tosses it to me with an amused look on her face, "It was left in the washroom. You should be thankful I found it before Lambo did. Otherwise you might've never seen it again."

"Thank you..." I mutter.

"That's a Vongola Ring," She continues, "But...There's only supposed to be seven of them...And the design on this ring...it's a Star."

I grit my teeth, not knowing how to handle this situation.

The woman relaxes, letting out a gentle smile, and gives me an equally tranquil smile.,"My name is Bianchi de Luca. I'm Hayato's older sister, and Reborn's lover."

My face reddens. _L-L-Lover?_ _B-But—! He's a __baby__, for crying out loud! That doesn't—Aw. Aw, no. __Ugh.__**Bad thought, Riri!**_

She smiles simply, "Love knows no bounds. You can't contain love," she says dreamily.

_Ah. A romantic, I see._

In these cases, it's best to just nod. So I nod. I slip the chain around my neck, tucking the ring into my shirt, and place the cell-phone down on the table, reaching for the bag. Bianchi beats me there, and together, we dissect it.

There's a rubber ducky, some little candles, a make-up set, a box of glow-sticks, deodorant, a notebook, a box of pads, a package of shiitake mushrooms, and as her hand draws up the next item, she pauses, "This is for Hayato."

She sets a magazine aside, and continues to pull items out of the plastic bag. There's a few volumes of manga (my eyes light up at that, but my shoulders fall as I see the cover of the manga on top of the pile is a sappy Shojo manga), a purple comb, a bag of purple candies, (is that—?) a nail gun (yes it is...), a pair of cooking chopsticks, some earrings, a shiny rock, origami papers, a packet of gelatine, and nail polish remover. She then turns the bag upside down, and a small cardboard box falls out, bouncing off my leg and landing on the bed.

I turn it over to read the label. "_**What!**_" I shriek, then lowering my voice, "Bianchi...? _Condoms?_"

"Good. They got everything on Part One of my list."

"Part _One__?_ Of _your_ list?" I repeat, incredulous.

She smiles, "Why of course, every woman needs these items. Some of these are for me, and some of these are for you."

She starts separating the items into two piles while I watch on, at a loss for words.

She places the rubber ducky, candles, shiitake mushrooms, the sappy Shojo manga (revealing a copy of Bleach directly below it), the nail gun, chopsticks, earrings, the origami paper squares, gelatine and nail polish remover into one bag. She smiles at me, standing. "The rest is yours."

"Um, ah. Thank you...(?)" I reply.

I'm left with a make-up set, glow sticks, deodorant, a notebook, pads, Gokudera's magazine, a few Shonen tankoubons, a comb, purple candies, a rock, and...A box of condoms.

"Bianchi!" I hiss, "What's this for?"

She arches one delicate eyebrow at me, "Did you ever get the 'talk'—the birds and the bees? You do know what happens when a—"

"Yes! Yes!" I wave my arms wildly, face growing red, "But I don't need them!"

"Of course you need them. You should always use protection," Is her reply, then she walks out of the room, leaving me alone with a box of condoms in hand. No...not quite alone. I peer down at the unconscious bomber's sleeping face, and my own face reddens. That's not awkward at all. I just hope that he was unconscious enough not to hear any of that.

Only panicking slightly, I glance around the room trying to find somewhere to hide the offending object. Then I freeze. First of all, _Bianchi_ added these to the list. Second of all, _Reborn_ approved this list. Third of all..._Gokudera_ bought these. That totally doesn't add to the awkward atmosphere in the room.

Is it like this every day in this house? No wonder Tsuna's always looking like he stepped out of a hurricane. I would've been run ragged by this point. Everyone comes and goes as they please, entering and exiting the house at random times throughout the day.

_No thoroughfare...at least through my poor abused brain..._ My mind wants to scream. Do what you will...just leave me alone. My head pounds. If I didn't have a fever before...then I probably have one now.

"Who am I?" The Bovino child saunters in singing. I quickly shove the box under my pillow.

"You're Lambo," I answer counter-intuitively, and a bit tiredly.

"Who are you?" But the child doesn't seem to take notice of my snappish tone. Maybe he's too used to Tsuna's scolding and Gokudera's tirades.

"Kariya," I deadpan, not sure where this is going.

"No! No!" He thrashes around on the bed, mussing up the sheets, "You're Lambo! You're Lambo!"

He rolls off of the bed, bouncing off of Gokudera's head and glaring at me with green eyes.

"I can't be Lambo if you're Lambo..."

"We're _both_ Lambo!" He insists.

When I continue to disagree with him, he ignores me and pulls a black marker out of his afro. Singing under his breath, he uncaps the marker, "Who am I? You're Lambo. Who are you? I'm Lambo. Who are we? We're Lambo!"

_Oh...I get it. It's a song._

I feel just a tad bit bad for not playing along. He _is_ just a kid...

Albeit one who's drawing on Gokudera's face with a black..._is that a __**sharpie**__?_

"H-Hey, Lambo..."

"Lambo, Lambo," He continues to sing in a half-whisper as he leans back to appreciate his artwork, "Lambo, the nice bomber-head calf! Gyahaha!"

I pull Gokudera's head back to assess the damage, and sigh when I realize that it could be a whole lot worse. Lambo's only drawn a grotesque fanged smiley face on his cheek.

"Ne, ne..." I begin, not sure of how to get him to stop, because surely, if I don't stop him now, when Gokudera wakes up, there'll be no end to this (not to mention, I won't be able to get a nap in edgewise...), "Lambo, maybe you should...stop."

He turns to me, brandishing the permanent marker, "Lambo-san's not done! I just drew I-Pin!"

_That__ was supposed to be __I-Pin__?_

"And that's the broccoli monster chasing I-Pin! Gyahaha!" he adds a fluffy blob with claws on Gokudera's other cheek, and I stifle a laugh—_I mustn't encourage him!_

"Now Lambo-san has to draw Tsuna, and Mama, and Fuuta, and maybe even Reborn! Reborn should be honoured that the great Lambo-san is drawing him on Ahoudera's face!" He cackles to himself.

"Reborn?" I repeat, wondering why the impish child would say the hitman's name with such bitterness.

"The Bovino boss gave Lambo-san the Bazooka and told him to kill Reborn!"

I gape at him. _So not only does he keep __grenades__ in his hair, but he also owns a __bazooka__? And what kind of boss sends a five-year-old halfway across the world with a bazooka hidden in his hair to assassinate the world's greatest hitman? Do they not know that that in itself is a suicide mission? Unless—! Unless they __wanted__—_

"Ne, ne, Baa-san. Wanna' see?"

"I—uh—no, Lambo. I—WHAT THE—?"

He pulls a purple contraption out of his afro.

"Gyahaha!" he laughs triumphantly, "Let's use it on Ahoudera!"

"Lambo! No!" I cry. _Use a __bazooka?__ On Gokudera? Are we all mad here?_

Gokudera groans slightly at the loud voices around him, and his eyes struggle to open.

"What's going on in here?"

"Gyah!" he finally manages to crack an eye open, and shudders as soon as he sees Bianchi's face, promptly fainting again, head lolling back against the bed frame.

"Lambo," Her silken voice holds a deadly whisper of a warning, her sentence curling up like a snake's tongue at the end.

The child quickly shoves the _'Bazooka_' into his hair, and mows around sheepishly. Bianchi walks over to the desk, pulling the bag of purple candy open. She takes one out, holding it in her hand, "Be a good boy, and I'll give you this later. For now, let's stop bothering Stella, and go help Mama, alright?"

"Okay!" Lambo brightens at this. He throws the marker over his shoulder, and it hits me in the face, leaving a streak of black across my nose.

"Grape candy! All the grape candy is the great Lambo-san's!"

I quickly cap the marker, tossing it onto the desk. It rolls around, and comes to a precarious stop at the edge of the table. After rubbing at the mark for a while, I deem it impossible to get off without a bit of water. And besides, I wouldn't be able to see if I was making a progress or not, anyway.

But, at last, it's quiet. I look back at my laptop to see the dreaded obnoxious flashing symbol: 'BATTERY LOW'. My chargers are in my bag—all the way across the room. So, being the indolent creature that I am, I shut my laptop, placing it beside the unconscious boy and turn towards the few tankoubons (within reach) with a borderline malicious grin. In contrast to my earlier movements, I speed through them with the ease and efficiency of a seasoned Otaku, hungrily soaking up the plotlines and enjoying the mangakas' artwork. But, of course, I sped through them, and pretty soon, I'm done. Tentatively, I eye the occult magazine sitting oh-so-harmlessly on the desk.

I reach for it, but the table is too far away. I don't feel much like getting out of bed to get the magazine, so as my right hand continues to reach for it, my left hand searches for something—anything—to support myself with; once my hand finds a hold, I cheer internally, then using it to support my full weight, I lean forward in a last ditch effort to grab the magazine.

Of course, the object that my hand found was Gokudera's shoulder. And his centre of balance shifted as soon as I put my weight onto his one shoulder. He tilted slowly and fell over, sending me tumbling from the bed. As soon as I feel myself slipping, I twist myself in mid-air, rolling away from the projected point of impact so I don't fall on him. The blankets and pillows are all pulled off of the bed with me.

He barely manages a quiet groan, but otherwise, there's no other reaction from him. I let out a relieved breath. Good. No one saw that embarrassing fail on my part. I push him back up into an upright position, his head leaning back against the bed frame. I swipe the magazine off of the desk and throw the pillows back into a rough arrangement. I leap back onto the bed, and pull the blankets up.

I tuck into the magazine like an animal greedy for knowledge. After charging through articles on various Cryptids and Ancient Egyptian curses, I notice Gokudera's turquoise eyes crack open, milling around, unable to focus on any single object.

"The Vile Vortices sound really interesting," I say, flipping the page over, moving on to an in-depth analysis of the secrets of the Bermuda Triangle—complete with exclusive details on common myths and misconceptions.

"What...What're you doing?" he tilts his head back to eye me suspiciously.

"Reading your occult magazine."

"That's mine!" he growls weakly, turning around to glare at me, and I have to say, I enjoy seeing him like this, incapacitated and not mouthing off at me every second. "Go read your manga," he says, letting out a huge breath and sitting back down.

"I already did," Losing interest in the Bermuda Triangle, I flip through the magazine and stop my hand on a random page. "Hm...Area 51...Fact or Fiction?" I read the headline.

"**Fiction,**" We both say.

"Why would they keep the aliens in one place?"

"It'd be way too easy to find them like that."

I flip the page and come face-to-face with a beast too terrifying for words. I shakily close the magazine, placing it on top of my laptop.

"Heh...That's enough scary movie/nightmare material for about a year."

"Why? Can't stomach them?" Gokudera taunts.

"No!" I glare at his tilted face, then look away quickly, anger instantly forgotten.

"What," his eyes narrow as a snigger escapes me.

"Nothing." I answer quickly.

"We're back!" sprightly voices yell. Feet begin clambering up the stairs, and I'm not sure whether I should feel relieved that I'm being saved from Gokudera's rage or to feel annoyed because any chance of peace and quiet has been destroyed...

Gokudera stands up just as Haru bursts into the room. It's like she broke the dam, and a handful of other people come flooding into the room.

All I hear at first is: Clothes, bags, '**Rasengan!'**, clothes, 'hope you like them', and lots and lots of laughter.

"Eh? Kariya-chan, you have marker on your face."

"Oh, that's nothing..." _Yeah, nothing in comparison to—_

"Gokudera-kun, what happened to your face?" I hear Tsuna ask in the background, underneath all the clamour.

I grin to myself.

"We bought lots and lots of clothes for you, Kariya-chan!"

"You didn't have to!" my smile falters.

"But we did! You have to try them on!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't take them." _I won't rely on charity. It's wrong to prey on your sympathy._

"Kariya-chan, _please_ accept these!"

"Just think of them as presents then!"

_Presents?_

Hesitantly, against my better judgment, and even somewhat against my will, my arms move out slowly to accept the bundles of clothes.

Kyoko places her bags down at the foot of the bed, and Haru hands her bags over to me. I offer my arms for her to unload her burden. She places the bundles in my arms, then gasps, "Kariya-chan! What happened here?"

"Hunh?" I follow her gaze, already composing a half-baked excuse for the many cuts on my arms. But she's not looking there.

Haru grabs my hand, splaying my hand palm-up. At first I'm confused as to what she's talking about, but then when even the boys crowd in to see, I understand. There's an old, puckered, not-quite faded scar slicing through the middle of my palm, and it's on display for all to see. I close my hand into a fist and gently tug it back, adjusting the clothes in my arms, "It's just an old scar."

I offer no further explanation.

"Whoa..." Sasagawa breathes. He looks awed, and I prepare myself, ducking out of the room quickly. In doing so, I avoid the brunt of the explosion.

"_**That's an **__**extreme**__** scar, Otaku! It's almost extreme as mine! **__**See**__**?"**_ He runs out of the room after me, skidding to a halt, and I use those few precious seconds to dash down the stairs, and barricade myself in the washroom.

Sasagawa spends the next few hours talking to the door (not even _through_ the door, as I've been trying hard to ignore him...in vain hopes that he'll just leave me alone...) before Sawada is able to coax him away and into the kitchen.

And so, my first _(real) _day of summer is spent coughing my lungs up, teaching a hyperactive boxing captain how to do Naruto's _Rasengan, _modelling different clothes for two middle-schooled girls, evading said hyperactive boxing captain, taking care of an out-of-commission bomber-boy (which constitutes of: fanning him arbitrarily, changing the wet rags on his forehead—along with mine at regular intervals, and keeping the little Cow off of him/away from him—especially when he gets the smelly markers out).

At the end of the day, I have come to a conclusion: The Sawada residence is a very...interesting place—there's always something going on. Yet, I have to wonder: Has the Vongola become a charity, taking in strays like me? Or is it actually an insane asylum?

Out of the two options...it's probably the third choice: _It's a daycare._

* * *

><p><strong>OMAKE:<strong>

"O-Oi...What're...those...?" Gokudera points at a small box on the ground. It's been opened, and its contents are spilled out, across the floor.

My face turns red, "You bought them! You should know!"

"I never bought those condoms!"

"Then who—"

"Gyahaha! Water fight!"

"_**Aho**_...!" The water balloon hits Gokudera in the face, yet doesn't break. It falls into his lap, and he picks it up, examining it for a moment. "...ushi...

"..._Where_..." my eyes widen apprehensively as a feeling of dread creeps through the pit of my stomach, "Did you get the water balloons...?"

"The Great Lambo-san got them from that box over there!" He prances over beside Gokudera, bending down to peer at the box.

_The box...must've fallen out when I fell out of bed!_

Lambo begins to read off the label, "Tro...jan. Ex...tra...dura...ble. Hmm. They're really bad water balloons...They don't break and go '_**splat' **_all over Ahoudera."

_**"What're you saying, you stupid cow?"**_

* * *

><p><em>Welcome to your Vongola Summer, Riri.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Oh, Ryohei...

Oh, Lambo...

Anyway, go vote on the poll on my profile. I'm interested in what you dear readers think about where this story is headed~

This chapter is written for the almost official-ish start of my summer (after my math exam tomorrow, I'm free~)! Here's to a year of tedious toil and hard work for all of us in school and still managing to find time to read and write (COUGH Procrastinate...lolwut?). And if anyone's still got exams and finals to write, well, I wish you best of luck!

_So_, look forward to those, everybody. It's summertime, KYA~

That's all I have to say. Everything else down here is for clarification.

**[1]** Well, my friend is really into Hipster Hitler...and I guess it rubbed off on me somewhat...

In case anyone didn't know, _**(MINOR SPOILER FOR NARUTO.**_ _**YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED): **__The Rasengan becomes Naruto's signature move. It's basically a compressed sphere of chakra that Naruto forces at someone...so I can kind of see where Ryohei's coming from...It does __kind__ of look like a punch if you didn't know it was chakra. ^_^"_


	11. Pop Fly

**Chapter 11**

**Pop Fly**

* * *

><p>"I'm going to meet Gokudera-kun at the park; I'll be back by dinner!" Tsuna calls, peering over his shoulder a bit nervously, almost excitedly. <em>Can he do it? Is it possible?<em> Can Sawada Tsunayoshi make it out of the house for a day with his friends without Reborn interfering, or manipulating it in some way?

"Dame-Tsuna. Where do you think you're going?"

_Of course not._

"Gah—! Reborn!"

"Gokudera called earlier. He left a message for you."

Tsuna runs back into the house, kicking his shoes off. Sure enough, the answering machine's light is blinking. He presses the play button, and at once, a burst of coughing greets him. He leaps back skittishly.

"A-Ah. _(cough)_ Sorry, Juudaime. I can't meet you at the park _(cough, cough)_ today. I caught that stupid woman's cold. _(Cough)_ I'm sorry, Juudaime! I'll make this up to you _(cough), _I promise! Dammit, that stupid woman! I'm so sorry, Juudaime! I've failed as your right hand man! I'm sorry! I'm really—"

He continues apologizing until the answering machine beeps again, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Tsuna sighs, and Reborn smirks. _That's never a good thing._

"What am I gonna' do today, then?"

"Baka-Tsuna, you can't just cancel on Yamamoto. A mafia boss keeps his promises."

"But—"

"Just take Kariya with you."

"K-Kariya-san!"

* * *

><p>"Speak of the devil."<p>

I hobble down the stairs, rubbing my eyes, "Why do I hear the stupid Bomber-Boy's obnoxious voice so early in the morning?"

"Early? Kariya-san, it's already noon!"

"Oh," I yawn, "Is it? Then, good afternoon, Sawada..." I murmur, yawning once more, accentuating it with a sleepy stretch. After all of yesterday's events, I'm tired. It's a good thing my fever subsided, though.

I couldn't help but grin when I heard Gokudera's message—he'd caught my cold? Good. I hope he stays bed-ridden for a while. _No one, I repeat, __no one__, insults my favourite animes to my face. Che. Serves him right for calling Edward Elric a hot-tempered midget and hating on his braid. (Though, I'd promptly retorted that he, himself, wasn't too tall either, and with his temper, he was one to talk. I'd then finished up with a tug of his octopus tentacle hair. My point proven, I happily went back to finishing the episode)._

"We're heading out to meet Yamamoto. You should escort your boss, since Gokudera's not here to do it."

"Reborn! I don't need escorts! And Gokudera-kun is my friend! Not my—"

"I can't, Reborn," I reply, cutting Sawada off.

"Why is that?"

I haven't had time to sew in holsters for my wakizashis, nor make the straps to hold them in place, so if I do go outside, I'll either be displaying my weaponry openly (like an idiot) for the police to nab me, or I'll be exposed to hidden dangers and subject to my natural paranoia.

So I give him the summary, "I would be unarmed, and therefore useless to you and Sawada."

"You don't need to bring your wakizashis. Just come along."

My gaze hardens, "I _don't want to._"

"You don't have a choice."

* * *

><p>I never <em>had<em> a choice.

So I deliberately eat my breakfast/lunch slowly—and Nana-san happily makes me more and more food as she believes that I'm '_hungry_' when in actuality, I'm '_stalling_'.

But eventually, I have to go.

I pull on a shirt and some jeans that Kyoko and Haru bought for me the yesterday, and run the comb that Gokudera had bought through my hair before making my way down the stairs at a leisurely pace.

I'm surprised that Sawada's still waiting for me, but I suspect that it's Reborn that kept him there. Nevertheless, I make sure to grumble under my breath and make my general unhappiness known.

Without Yamamoto, or even Gokudera, as a buffer, a sort of middleman, it's kind of awkward walking along with Sawada and Reborn. Sawada is clearly more than a little intimidated by me, and I can't say that my hate for him—specifically for inheriting his new title—has disappeared (although it's stopped festering). And as for my relationship with Reborn? There's no way to describe it, though there's definitely condescension on his part.

So, overall, it's a tense silence that Sawada is obviously uncomfortable with.

"So, um, Kariya-san."

"Hmm?" I look over at him, and I frown—but only after he flinches slightly from my gaze.

Sawada struggles to find something to say, and that's when I realize that we're in the same boat. Even though it should've been obvious to me, I didn't see it up until now. Sawada's just as lost as I am.

I go back to looking at my shoes as we walk along. I peer at him from the corner of my eye, through the dividing curtain of my hair. I feel Reborn's amused gaze travelling between the two of us. I might as well make an effort. If I don't, Reborn will most likely have to resort to some sort of violence against the brunet, "Why're we going towards Nami Chuu?"

He cringes, and I sigh. That came out in a far harsher tone than I'd intended it to. Surprisingly, Reborn remains silent, so that means I'm doing something right...ne?

"Eh..." Sawada manages a small smile, "That's where Yamamoto and the baseball team are practising. Gokudera-kun and I were going to watch their practice, then we were going to the shopping district."

"Oh. I see. Alright."

I catch a glimpse of a fluttering black sleeve, and I wonder: What does _he_ do during the summer? I bet he stays at the school. But, there are no schoolchildren for him to bite to death. Oh, yes. That's right. His Disciplinary Committee are probably out nabbing criminals. They're probably more effective than the Namimori police...that is, if they're not collaborating already.

The rest of the walk to Nami Chuu is under a slightly lighter atmosphere. We grab seats at the top of the bleachers to better see the playing field.

I scratch my arm absentmindedly. I don't really understand baseball. It's too complicated for me. The only sports I can play are soccer—because you get the ball and you try and score—and badminton—because you get a point or lose a point if the birdie hits the ground (and I can only play singles at that...). I've never been much for team sports.

"K-Kariya-san! You're bleeding!" Sawada exclaims.

"Hm?" I blink, following his gaze. Sure enough, I've scratched off quite a number of scabs. I raise my arm to observe the little spheres of blood that bubble up before flattening them with my index finger.

"Hold on," Sawada stands, and clambers down from the bleachers. My eyes follow him, confused. I turn back to the scabs, deciding to peel the rest of them off—they're annoying me.

"We'll just run a quick practice game before we call it a day, alright, boys?"

The coach's suggestion is met with much enthusiasm.

"I'll divide you up into two teams—shirts and skins—and we'll run a short game—how about, say, four innings? Alright." He begins calling names. "Mazda, skin. Honda, skin. Isuzu, shirt. Suzuki, shirt. Yamamoto, skin. Mitsubishi, shirt. Mitsuoka, shirt. Subaru, skin." And so on.

I look away embarrassedly as I realize what the man meant by shirts and skins. It's a good thing that Yamamoto hasn't noticed us yet. I don't think I'd be able to meet his gaze again if he did. When I look back, I'm glad that his back is turned to the audience, but a bunch of girls at the bottom of the bleachers (which I later learn are part of Yamamoto's fan club) squeal.

"Oh, we seem to be a person short...Do we have any volunteers from our audience?"

The girls near the bottom of the bleachers shout happily and jump, hoping to be picked. The coach just glances over them, and I have to smirk a little at that, "No? Well, I guess it doesn't matter. We can still play a decent game like this, right boys?"

"Here, Kariya-san!" Sawada runs back up, handing me a handful of tissues.

They're bunched up in a fistful, and it's obvious that they were hastily grabbed, but I accept them with both hands, and dip my head, "Thank you."

"Tsuna, go down there, and show them how the Vongola play."

"W-What?" Sawada, who's just returned, has no idea what's going on, "HIEEE...!"

"Sawada!" I cry involuntarily as Reborn kicks him off the top row of the bleachers. I cringe at every bench he hits as he rolls to a stop by the cage.

"Oh? A volunteer? Alright, you'll be a skin, then. Off you go!"

Against Sawada's protests, he's stripped of his shirt, which is thrown into the dugout behind them, a glove is shoved into his arms and he's pushed out onto the field. Sawada's wide eyes meet mine as he stumbles out of the dugout. He mouths something at me with a pleading look. It's too bad that I can't read lips. Though, it's not too hard to guess what he means. I manage a small wave. _Yes, I'm spiteful, but that's what you get for dragging me out here against my will._

"Kariya. You should cheer your team on."

I scowl, pressing the tissues onto the freshly opened wounds.

"Go, Sawada!" I yell awkwardly, and a bit randomly, mustering up some courage. Sawada not only doesn't catch the baseball—he ducks his head and runs away from it. Apparently it's not loud enough for the people on the field to hear me, but loud enough for the girls near the cage to glance back at me, and all my energy fizzles out. Their expressions aren't exactly demeaning, per se, but it makes me sit down, cross my arms, and look away. _What am I doing anyway? Che._ I'm watching a baseball game—and a practice one at that, cheering at said practice game—and for _Decimo _at that.

"Che," I scoff under my breath. I won't allow myself to be bullied into doing meaningless things like that by Reborn. He can abuse his authority all he wants! But a small voice in my head tells me that it's not just a title—_Reborn can back it up, he's sure powerful enough..._

I scoff again. I won't be intimidated by Reborn either. I glare at one of the players, Mazda, I think, who's flirting with the girls, "Reborn. When's the game over?"

"Not for a while. But you're right. Let's end this quickly. There's something that's been bothering me."

I'm about to ask him what's bothering him when he pulls an object out from within his suit. Effectively sidetracked, I ask instead: "What are those?"

"These?" Reborn holds the red bullet up for me to take a better look. Then the lizard crawls from the rim of his fedora onto his hand, "These are Dying Will Bullets."

"Dying...Will...Bullets?"

"They allow you to access your Dying Will and fight with your true resolve."

I leap back as the lizard begins to glow, "W-What's with him?"

"Leon?" He seems to be enjoying my confusion—he clearly enjoys having the upper hand in any situation, "Leon's my partner."

The lizard transforms into a pistol right before my eyes. To me, it looks nothing more than a simple kid's water gun. But I know better. Reborn could probably kill someone with a water gun anyway.

The back of my mind is contemplating all possibilities for this, while, for the most part, my brain is preoccupied with gaping at the lizard that is now a gun. I can't wrap my mind around that. Reborn...just defied the laws of physics. Maybe I'm hallucinating...

Reborn puts a bullet into the gun, smirking, "Leon is...special."

I nod, slapping my face to remove the dumbfounded look.

"Oi, Tsuna. Play seriously," Reborn calls.

Surprisingly, Tsuna hears. He turns to face us, and he screams when he sees the gun pointed at him. I'm not surprised at his reaction—_anyone would scream at that._

But what really surprises me is that Reborn actually fires.

Tsuna screams again, and runs forward, arms raised defensively over his head. Maybe it was coincidence, or maybe Reborn timed it. Whatever the case, the baseball lands snugly in Sawada's gloved hand.

He seems surprised—as are the rest of the spectators—as the Coach pronounces the runner as "_Out!_"

I continue to stare at the field before my brain comes to a conclusion, "Why did you fire blanks, and not use the dying will bullets?"

"There are some things in which Tsuna must learn to use his dying will without the aid of the bullet," he smiles approvingly, "He's learning quickly."

_I think he's just more afraid of being shot by you than wanting to learn to utilize said 'dying will'..._

Either way, I don't envy the Vongola Decimo right now. If the title comes with a Spartan tutor...I don't think I want it as much anymore.

"_Tch!_" I growl to myself. I can't even think of the title anymore. I've chained myself to the Vongola now—I _serve_ the Vongola Decimo...

I remove the tissue, only to that the wound scabbed over all wrong, and that by taking the tissue away, I've ripped off the newly formed scabs.

"Reborn..." I say quietly, dabbing at the blood.

He looks back at me.

"Tell me about the Vongola Rings."

He visibly stiffens, and I see a small tremor pass through him. His voice and expression grow dark, "How do you know about the Vongola Rings?"

I quickly backtrack at his tone, "Um. Bianchi mentioned them yesterday."

"_Bianchi?_" He repeats, giving me a look that seems to both freeze as well as examine my insides. It's unnerving to say the least.

He appears to brood over this piece of information for quite a bit.

"I take it you won't go into further detail?" I ask, voice heavy with sarcasm, and then turn my attention back to the playing field.

"Hmm...?"

I look down at Reborn, who's gazing at Leon. The lizard has made its way down from Reborn's fedora, across the bleacher and has stopped by my leg. He blinks up at me with large eyes, and _is he __smiling?_ His tongue shoots out and licks my hand quickly before he retreats, curling up around Reborn and hiding behind the baby's head.

"Leon seems to like you."

The lizard peers around the hat at me, then shrinks back.

"Really. He just looks scared of me."

"He's just shy."

I raise my eyebrows sceptically, but I turn back to the game with a lighter smile on my face. Usually animals—strange ones, like Leon, included—don't like me. They tend to lash out at me without much provocation on my part. So it's a bit of a happy surprise for me that Leon apparently likes me.

My lifted spirits seem to find it easier to watch the game, and when the ball soars towards Yamamoto, I call, "Catch it, Yamamoto!"

He looks up sharply at my voice, finally noticing me, "Kari-chan!" he waves enthusiastically up at me.

I blush at a full view of his...assets, and the girls squeal loudly. Then, seeing the incoming projectile, I leap to my feet in the stands, "Yamamoto! You idiot! _Watch out!_"

Then, super-fast reflexes, natural skills or not, it's over like a pop fly to the head. No, _really._ He's hit in the head with a pop fly. The baseball bounces off his head, and it takes him a millisecond to recover and bring his gloved hand up. It lands neatly in the glove.

"_Out!_"

Yamamoto fixes his hat, and waves at me again. I stare incredulously, "Yamamoto...You're used to taking baseballs to the head...aren't you..."

* * *

><p>"Kari-chan! You came too!" he gives me a big smile as he runs up to us. He envelops us in an even bigger hug.<p>

"Yup. (_Against my will though...)"_ I mumble awkwardly against his chest, face reddening, squished up against Tsuna.

"Eh...? Where's Gokudera?" he releases us and I'm filled with relief and Oxygen—In general: glad.

"He's sick," Tsuna answers quickly before I can say a word. I grin, somewhat pleased at the thought of being the one responsible for Gokudera's misery.

"Oh, that sucks," Yamamoto's face falls for a second, but he regains his smile easily, "But at least Kari-chan's with us!"

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter.

"C'mon, let's go!"

With Yamamoto now, the previous silence is filled with a feeling of ease, and I find myself drawn into the conversation as well. It starts off as an arbitrary, seemingly pointless topic, but it soon blossoms into playful banter and loud laughter.

But then—

"You, come with me."

A hand with an iron grip latches onto my wrist like shackles. I automatically spin to face them, jerking my arm back. It does little to neither loosen the grip nor reclaim my arm. My other hand fumbles around, but I can't slide my arm up my sleeve to grab the wakizashis...and I realize that I'm unarmed anyway. That realization makes me struggle all the more.

"Stop struggling, herbivore."

"W-What? No! Let go of me!" I didn't come along with Sawada willingly, but that doesn't mean that I'll let myself be dragged away by yet another person who wants to ruin my already perfectly horrible day.

Hibari's cool grey eyes land on me, and I glare at his stoic expression. When he speaks, it's as if all the warmth in the vicinity has been sucked out, "I can't allow you to gallivant around Namimori any longer. I've overlooked your previous actions, but I won't let this go."

"Let _what_ go?" I yell.

"Quiet."

"I didn't do anything!" I snarl digging my heels into the ground in an attempt to bring him to a stop.

Sawada pales, "Waa...! Hibari-san!"

"Haha~" Another hand closes on my arm, "Sorry, Hibari, but Kari-chan is coming to the shopping district with us."

Hibari and Yamamoto both exert pressure onto my arms, and I fear that I might tear down the middle. They attempt to stare the other down—Hibari with his raging calm expression and Yamamoto with his steely smile.

Sawada seems to scrounge up some courage at Yamamoto's cheery, yet resolute, declaration (Or perhaps Sawada just wishes to avoid a conflict), "Ah, um. Hibari-san. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been Kariya-san. She's been with us this entire morning."

Hibari's eyes slide over to Sawada, and he quivers but doesn't back down. Hibari's blank face transforms into a predatory grin, "Your argument is irrelevant. This didn't occur within the daytime—it was last night."

I wrench my arm away from him, "Are you gonna' tell us what fucking happened, or are you gonna' keep accusing me of something I didn't do?" I tilt my chin challengingly at him, rubbing my wrist.

Hibari's eyes narrow and he takes clipped, measured strides towards me. He looms over me—or more accurately, his intimidation factor does (somewhere in the back of my mind the voice observes that he's shorter than Yamamoto), "Someone broke into the school."

"So?" I prod, knowing full well that no one cares much for the school—at least as much Hibari does—other than the man himself.

"Someone broke into the school," He continues with a venomous smirk in my direction, "And stole _your_ documents."

I freeze, "My documents? _My_ documents?"

"The file was missing."

"Why would they want Kari-chan's info?" Yamamoto asks.

"Yeah, there's not much anyway," I add. _There shouldn't be much..._

"There wasn't," Hibari agrees, "_But that wasn't all._"

"What does that mean?" Sawada prompts.

"After stealing the school documents, the perpetrator broke into the city's archives and municipal government buildings and made off with every document that so much as even _mentioned_ your name," Hibari finishes with a pointedly look at me, "You are the prime suspect—you are the _only_ suspect. And you will face the consequences."

"But I didn't do it! I was sleeping! Why would I do something like that?" I protest.

"She's not the only suspect. I have someone in mind," Reborn speaks up from Yamamoto's shoulder.

"Baby..." Hibari seems to deliberate for a moment—I feel his bloodlust quell slightly. Then he raps me sharply on the head with his tonfa before turning away.

"Ow! What the—!"

"Locate the documents and return them to me. Or be bitten to death."

I rub my head, glaring at the prefect's receding figure. I guess he wasn't going to leave without getting a bit of violence in.

"Who would steal Kariya-san's documents though?" Tsuna asks worriedly.

"Hmm..."

"Maa, maa," Yamamoto assuages, and I realize that he's still holding onto me. He throws his arms around both me and Tsuna, "We can worry about that later. For now, let's go to the shopping district!"

"Yamamoto...Are you not worried _at all...?_"

"Haha~ well, things that you lose, if they're meant to be found, will always come back to you sooner or later."

I shake my head at his cheerful words. But, somehow, they've made me relax a little. Maybe, just for a little while, I can forget that nagging thought that I've missed something—something very important.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Haha~ Did anyone notice that all of the baseball players' names were Japanese car companies (aside from Yamamoto and Tsunafishy)? I was contemplating putting Toyota in...but that would've just been too much, even for me—I mean, Honda was kind of pushing it, and Mazda was a stretch.

Thank you for the reviews, faves, and alerts! *Does happy dance*

And thank you also, for voting on the poll. If you haven't already, please do so—it's still up on my profile...it probably will be for a pretty long time... Keep in mind that I have about ten years' timeframe to work with (COUGH _manipulate_ COUGH), and at least five of these are ambiguous, so the pairing might turn out to be really wild... xD

Ah. I should mention that if, at any time, your decision changes, and you would like to vote for someone else, just mention it in your review or PM me if you so wish to, and I'll be sure to add it to the poll (I'm hand-writing them as well, because I'm an extremely paranoid person...)

And the 'other' option isn't just there for jokes. I'm an extremely weird person. Maybe I'm just waiting for the daring dreamer to pick something that everyone else deems impossible~

Aheheh...I think writing like Asha Walker for P s y c h e ButterflyHeart is really affecting me...

ANYWAY, please vote, dear readers~


	12. Guest, Meet Inhospitality

**Chapter 12**

**Guest, Meet Inhospitality.**

* * *

><p>"<em>Visitors always bring pleasure—if not the arrival, then the departure."<em>

-Portuguese Proverb

* * *

><p>I'm awoken by yelling and panicked shuffling. There's a thump and a drawn out silence before I hear a chain of thumps ending with a grand crash at the base of the stairs. But it doesn't end there. There's a frightened scream and more thudding footsteps before an indignant Tsuna shouts, "Lambo! You ate my sandwich!"<p>

To which the mafia child replies snootily, "Lambo-san _didn't!_"

"Don't lie!"

"Lambo-san _hates_ egg salad!" is the kid's muffled retort.

There's sound of a scuffle and yelling before I the front door slams. Then there's the marked _pitter-pat_ that signifies a person's light, deliberate, confident footsteps—

I sit bolt right, throwing the sheets at the door as it opens, while backing up against the wall. My hand reaches beneath the pillow, but I can't locate my wakizashis. The blankets billow out and land in a soft pile on the carpet, revealing none other than Reborn.

I frown at him. "What."

"Hurry up or you'll be late for school. Tsuna's already left."

I throw a glance at the clock across the room from me. _He's right! If I don't get a move on I'll be—!_

"Wait a minute..." I stop in the doorframe. "It's summer."

Reborn smirks. "You follow your _own_ instincts despite what superiors tell you. That's very good, as well as very bad. Go find Tsuna."

My eyes narrow. _I just woke up. No way in hell am I gonna'—_

"Your alternative is to babysit Lambo for a day," he says before sauntering out of the room. "You might need these."

I catch my wakizashis when he throws them at me and slam the door closed behind him. I get back into bed, sliding my short swords beneath my pillow again. _Dammit. I'm between a bitter piece of rock candy and a soft place—namely, the bed. But the latter won't remain a very nice alternative for long if I decide to stay—Reborn will make sure of that, no doubt._

"Oh..." I hear Reborn's smirking voice through the door. "And if anything happens to Tsuna...well, _it's all on your head..._"

Without another thought, I leap out of bed.

* * *

><p><em>What's with this weather?<em> The temperatures have been up and down lately, and today it's cool again, almost like it's going to storm today. At least I'm able to wear my sweater without seeming too suspicious...It's the one with the crappy holsters crudely sewed in by me a few years ago.

As I run through town, I'm reminded of the first day of school. Passing the same convenience store, the same crooked stop sign, the same faded crosswalk, and rounding the same corners.

But what really stands out is the feeling of anxiety—then it was tardiness, now it's the fear for my life (as well as for someone else's). Maybe I'm exaggerating and blowing things way out of proportion, but I don't want to take any chances...Because _really_, my life depends on Decimo's life. If he dies, I'm pretty much guaranteed to die along with him...by the Vongola's own hand.

I cut through the shopping district which is almost devoid of people, save for middle-aged women out to try to catch a few early morning deals at the supermarket.

I skirt around a purple-haired girl who steps out of a brand name clothing store. Her bags fall out of her hands, spilling clothes everywhere. She picks them up carefully, and I see that they're all in sizes that are clearly too big for her. Not thinking too much of it, I slow down to pick up her open wallet. "Ah, sorry," I mumble quickly.

_Eh?_ I glance at it when I feel its next-to-nothing weight._ It's empty..._

She snatches it from my hand and bows slightly in apology. I shrug, rushing past her, continuing on my way. _I have more important things to concern myself with right now._

I catch up to Tsuna, who's just managed to make it to the school. He pants and gasps for breath as he holds onto the wall for support.

"I can't believe Reborn tricked me like that!" he complains to himself.

"I can't believe you fell for it..." _I almost did too..._

"Kariya-san!" he cries, running towards me. "I'm sorry I didn't wait for you..."

"Why? There's no school today anyway."

"True..." he says quietly.

"What do we do now?" I enquire.

"Why don't we go home first?" he suggests.

_Home?_ Surprised, I nod.

We walk in flat silence for a while, but the atmosphere isn't as tense anymore...though not quite amiable either. I guess it's just...peaceful(?) in a sense.

...If not for my brooding, that is.

I just make sure that Tsuna's still beside me, and I release my mind, letting it float up into the blue sky like a kite pulled along by the wind until it disappears from sight, shielded from prying eyes by the whimsical layers of clouds.

"Eh?" Tsuna exclaims.

I look up sharply. "Yamamoto?" I recognize the bright smile immediately.

"Yo," he greets as he walks towards us. "Sorry I can't hang out today, Tsuna, Kari-chan. I've got practice and then I gotta' help out my old man," he says with an apologetic smile. "How about I meet you guys at the school tomorrow?"

"Alright!" Tsuna agrees.

Yamamoto ruffles my hair before walking past us. He waves as he disappears around the corner, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

And we continue on. As we turn onto Tsuna's street we notice the pedestrians hurrying on their way, brushing past us at a brusque pace. The adults have the same uniform, tight-lipped expression, hurriedly towing their kids along behind them. The kids on the other hand keep glancing back down the street, wowing and generally being the annoying, curious creatures that they are.

Both Tsuna and I glance around warily and with a growing sense of dread at the black vehicles lining the sides of the street. A lot of men in black suits are loitering around them; they, too, regard us with a suspicious eye, muttering amongst themselves.

One of them, still about ten paces away, begins approaching us. I don't think Tsuna has noticed him yet—he's too preoccupied with shying away from the neighbour's Chihuahua. I tense, looking around. This isn't a good situation—with the way the cars are positioned we're easily boxed in, not to mention greatly outnumbered.

The man arrives in front of us. My hand clamps down on Tsuna's hand, and I pull him with me as I back away. Tsuna yelps in surprise and the men all spring into an alert position.

"Who are you? What do you want with Decimo?" I growl. My hands itch to pull my wakizashis out, but I know that that'd be detrimental, all things considered. I mean, they don't look like they want a fight, though if I draw a weapon on them, I'm sure that will all change in an instant.

"Decimo?"

"_That's_ the Decimo?"

"Vongola Decimo, you're sure?"

"He matches the description."

"So young."

"Yes. Are you sure it's him?"

"And who's that girl with him?"

"We weren't told."

"No. But that's Decimo for sure."

That fact only makes them whisper all the more.

_Crap! Did they not know that he was the Decimo? Damn! And I just freely released that fact! If not, then he could've escaped unharmed. Dammit! Stupid Riri!_

"Welcome home, Vongola Decimo, Sawada Tsunayoshi," he says.

I freeze. _What__ did he just say?_ So he's not hostile?

"A-Aah. Um, thank you..." Tsuna rushes inside. I'm dragged forward a couple of steps before my grip on his wrist fails and he slips through the gates, leaving me behind.

I give the men an apprehensive glance before turning to follow Tsuna inside. I find that my path is blocked by the black-haired man who'd greeted Tsuna.

"We were told to see Sawada Tsunayoshi inside, but we were told nothing about you. I'm sorry but you're not cleared to pass."

"Come again?" I say in a low voice.

The man shakes his head gravely. "Our boss wishes to speak with Sawada Tsunayoshi undisturbed, and we'll make sure that that happens. I assure you that we do not wish to harm him."

"What the hell!" I snarl. But I take in the information. _'Boss'. He said '__boss__'. That means that Tsuna might be in danger despite what they say!_

"I apologize once again, miss," the man says, "but orders are orders. I cannot permit you to pass. You'll have to stay out here until we receive further instructions."

I fix a steely glare on him, but resign myself to pacing at the front gates of the Sawada household. Sooner or later Tsuna will come to let me in—he won't forget about me...right? If he does, then Nana-san might come out, and hopefully she'll be able to convince them. I'm not really counting on Reborn—he's probably getting a kick out of this.

I study the man before me, who's not 'permitting me to enter the premises'. He looks to be middle-aged, with spiky black hair and a bushy moustache. His glasses glint in the sunlight at a certain angle, and throw the beams into my eyes. I growl slightly, quickly growing _very_ irritated.

Suddenly there's screaming and yelling and a pink projectile is thrown from the window. It takes half a second for my brain to register the shouts, another half-second for my vision to focus on the—"_oh __**shit**__"—_and for me to recognize the shape and realize that it's a—("_You guys! Get down!"_)—pink grenade—

And then there's a blond idiot who takes a flying leap out of the window, brandishing a bullwhip which wraps tightly around the explosive. With a dextrous flick of his wrist, he sends it spinning high into the sky.

I'm too busy looking up at the destination of the deadly grenade to respond or react to the fact that everyone else has ducked for cover, using their black cars with tinted glass as protection. I'm knocked over, flattened against the ground by a blur of green and fur and blond and black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white as the grenade detonates. Fragments of the shrapnel rain down, but I'm too busy suffocating to notice that.

My vision returns to me as 'black and white' and 'black and white' get up off of the impromptu dog-pile, helping 'black and white' and 'black and white up' and I identify the monochromatic colours as the suited men. 'Green and fur and blond' is undoubtedly the idiot blond who jumped from the window.

The black-haired man from before helps the blond up.

"Aah. Thanks, Romario," he says. Then he turns to me. "Are you okay?" the blond idiot (which is really redundant), asks me with concerned hazel eyes. He offers a hand to me, which I ignore. I nod in answer, brushing myself off. As much as I try to brush off the incident offhandedly, a little bubble of respect for this man wells up within me.

"Is everyone alright?" he calls, addressing the rest of the men.

"Yeah."

"We're good."

"Ha! Boss went and did it again!"

"Showing off for the ladies, eh, boss?"

"Guys...!" he protests, but he smiles when he sees that they're unharmed.

'_Boss'? So __he's__ the boss? Of which Famiglia? _I study him closely. I don't know much of any other mafia families, and at the most, I know names but I can't connect them to faces.

"Dino-san! Kariya-san!" Tsuna runs out of the house, Reborn perched on his shoulder.

"Yo, so you didn't forget about me," I say, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"Kariya?" the blond—Dino—raises an eyebrow at me. He turns to Reborn, who just nods in reply to his silent question.

Reborn addresses everyone in general, "I wish to speak with these two alone."

The men nod, and Romario says, "We'll be back for you later, boss."

"Alright, then," he replies.

"Do try and be careful!" one of his men calls.

"Hey!" he whines.

"I feel a lot better knowing that Reborn-san will be with you!"

The rest chortle as they pile into the important looking cars with the tinted windows.

We head back inside, walking right into Tsuna's room and settling down, ignoring the boy's objections. Reborn kicks the door closed behind him, shutting Tsuna out.

"Dino, this is Asunake Kariya," Reborn introduces.

"Pleasure to meet you," he says amiably...at least, it's meant to be amiable. His friendly tone only succeeds in making me narrow my eyes and back away.

"Speaking of which," Reborn changes the subject without introducing the man to me. Though I now know his name, without knowing the man's title, I'm left with an antsy, chary feeling. "I called for you more than a month ago."

So this is the person that Reborn had called here to get information on me. My suspicions are fuelled by this new revelation despite the man's warm and open disposition.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I was really busy!"

"That's no excuse," Reborn cuts him off.

Dino only bursts out into more flustered apologies, looking all the more like Tsuna trying to escape from the evil clutches of the baby hitman. The bubble of respect that had grown within me begins to deflate, air hissing out rapidly.

"I told you to bring her along too. Where is she?" Reborn asks.

"Eh?" he interjects, stopping his rushed explanations. "I thought she was already here with you," the blond man replies, scratching his head in a somewhat confused manner. "Well, when I received your message, she was in Rome—"

"—Rome?" Reborn raises an eyebrow at this.

I observe the exchange in silence.

"Rome," he confirms. "She told me that she'd be visiting the Varia first, and then that she would be off on her own errands. I told her that I'd be here today, and she told me that she'd meet me here."

"_Where is she now?"_

Dino replies honestly, "I don't know." And then he promptly resumes his frantic apologies at Reborn's glower.

I turn away. The bubble pops with this wave of sharp cries. _I think I've lost all respect for this man._

"You're one of my former students, Dino; act like it. Kariya here has already lost her respect for you."

We look over at the other, sizing one another up. _So he's one of Reborn's students..._

I speak first. "You know you've lost one of your socks, right?"

"Hunh?" he says. Then he looks down at his feet and hops and spins, glancing around for his MIA sock. "Gah! Where'd it go?"

I shake my head. _Nope, he's a dumb blond alright._

* * *

><p>I find out, much to my displeasure, that Dino will be staying with us for a while. Even more to my distaste, I grudgingly admit that he's a natural mafia boss—easily one of those smooth talking crime lords if he tries. He just exudes charisma—<em>while stationary<em>, that is. He gives Nana-san easy compliments that are (well, _seem_) genuine and are well-balanced; they're never too weak, nor do they seem forced or fake.

I find out from Tsuna that he's the tenth generation Cavallone boss and that he was Reborn's previous student, like he'd mentioned before. No wonder. I guess Reborn's speciality is the hopeless ones. Though, in my opinion, Reborn left Dino a little too soon.

Said man sits across from me at the dinner table, and I give him an unimpressed look as he spills some more of his rice. He looks to be unaware of the fact that most of his food is ending up on the table around him rather than in his mouth, yet he continues to chat happily with everyone at the table—including me.

"So Kariya, how are you enjoying Mama's cooking?"

I glance at him, looking at the rice on his cheek and a smear of sauce on his lip and turn back to my bowl of rice.

He continues on, unperturbed. If anything, my disregard for him has made him all the more determined to 'get through to me'...or if anything else, make up for his so-called 'manly pride'—because he doesn't look like one to get snubbed frequently by girls, or just people in general.

"I think Mama's cooking is very good! Especially the rice! What kind of rice do you use?"

Nana-san laughs lightly and hurries off into the pantry to search for the brand name.

I snort in derision. _What would you know about how the rice tastes? I doubt you've gotten even a decent mouthful of it._

Sawada shoots me a panicked look.

I lean across the table, chopsticks brandished to try and pick up some of the tofu. When it doesn't work out, I ball up my fist to stab the chopsticks down on the offending object.

The knife seems to appear from nowhere, and by the time I notice it, it's already embedded in the wooden table, right between the third and fourth fingers of my left hand.

For a moment, nobody moves. We peer around in shocked silence. I'm the first to move, jerking back in a hasty movement, knocking the chair over behind me.

Dino gets up as well. "Kariya! Are you alright?"

I reach into my sleeve threateningly, eyes darting around, trying to pinpoint it—_that __feeling,__ it's back again._ "Stay away from me," I warn. Something about Cavallone is..._off-putting._

He's brought that sinister aura with him. So, my conclusion? _It must be him, somehow, that's at the root of all this. __He's__ the perpetrator. He __must be__ the one who stole the documents, the one that was in the hospital, the one who orderedthose guys to attack me—therefore, he's __dangerous._

"**Stay** _away_ from me," I repeat, enunciating each and every word heavily, just in case he didn't get it the first time that I'm _dead serious. _

He stops in place, nodding slowly. Good.

"Dino," Reborn says, leaping onto his shoulder.

"Aah."

They seem to have something going here, and I'm not in on it. That fact makes me all the more nervous. My fingers itch to unsheathe my blades, just for something to hold out in front of me, to distance myself from them.

Reborn holds the knife up, and I flinch back, fight or flight instinct flaring up.

"Kariya." Reborn's voice cuts through my panic and somehow forces me to lift my head again. "Kariya," he repeats. "Dino is not responsible for this. You can trust him, if not all of us."

"He's allied with the Vongola!" I growl.

"The Vongola which you're now a part of," Reborn says coolly. "Stand down."

The man's earnest hazel eyes have a certain _honest_ quality to them, like Sawada, yet they're a lot calmer and more mature. I straighten up from my stance, but keep a sharp eye on him. "If it's not him, then who is it?" I ask Reborn, not letting my gaze leave Cavallone even for a moment.

"All I can say is that it isn't him. You're not cleared for any more information beyond that," Reborn replies simply, twirling the oddly shaped knife in his hand. It has strange ridges in it, not quite serrated, but enough for me to find it unusual and wonder about it aerodynamics and how its trajectory is affected by its peculiar shape. What really piques my curiosity is the fact that it seems to have jewels on the blade itself. _Who has that kind of time and money?_

"_That doesn't answer anything!"_ I scowl.

Dino takes the knife from Reborn and studies it for a moment before he speaks quietly. "I'll be heading back tomorrow."

"Aah. That would be best," Reborn agrees.

Dino casts a glance around the room, and smiles towards the genkan, at the front door, before turning to me. He walks over, patting my head. I flinch at his touch, but otherwise remain stock-still.

"I don't think you're any danger, Kariya. I trust you, and think you'll be good as part of Tsuna's family. I just hope you can learn to trust us as well," he says amiably. "C'mon let's go and finish dinner."

His arm wraps around my shoulders and he leads me back to the kitchen.

I shoot a quick glance over my shoulder and face forward again, but spin around fully, out of Cavallone's grasp. The first time, I hadn't been expecting to see anything, but it was there! It _was!_ There was someone standing there in the doorway. They were spinning another one of those knives in their hand, and their eyes gleamed a vivid shade of—

"Kariya? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I shoot back in a tart voice. Then I turn slowly, reiterating in a softer tone, "I'm okay."

"_**Aieee!" **_

We all turn to the shriek.

"Nana-san!" I cry, and we all run towards the noise.

Dino trips over his foot and falls flat on his face, I spare him a half-second glance over my shoulder, never stopping for him. _What happened to Nana-san? _

"Gah!" I hear Tsuna yell as well, "There's a giant turtle in the bathroom! It's—_Hiieee!_ **It's eating the bathtub!**"

"_**How the hell did that get there!**_" I shout.

* * *

><p><em>...Kushishishishishi~<em>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Haha~ No offense to blond(e)s out there. Kariya's views are not my own. I personally think that blond(e) hair is really pretty. If I could change my hair colour, it'd probably be to dirty blonde... But that's enough about me!

The next chapter should be up in a bit! In the meantime, review and vote~


	13. Voluntold

**Chapter 13**

**Voluntold**

* * *

><p>Fitful sleep. Angst-filled, anxiety-inducing dreams.<p>

–_Get it! –I have to! –I __can't!_

"You haven't figured it out yet? The answer's right here! If you can't get it, then you've already failed."

_What could it be? The answer is right there. It's within reach, but I can't get it._

_**Blue and red and blue and red and blue and red. **_

_Spinning, spinning, spinning._

_**Blue and red and blue and red and blue and red.**_

_Reflecting, reflecting, reflecting._

_**Red and blue and red and blue and red and blue.**_

_Circling, circling, circling._

_**Red and blue and red and blue and red and blue.**_

_What could it be? I have the answer. I've found it, but I can't comprehend it._

"Then that means nothing, dear child. Just give up. Give in. You'll fall, like always. Alone."

–_I've got it! –I had to! –I'm __sorry!_

Neurotic days. Anxiety-filled, angst-inducing consciousness.

Waking life isn't much better...

* * *

><p>I can no longer ignore it. It's gotten to the point where the worry follows me into sleep, and I'm startled awake mere moments later. I pace around in the dark, sit down at the desk, on the bed, and then on the floor, trying to shake off the unease. <em>Don't worry Riri...I've got this. I've got this. Yeah, I'm gonna' figure this out.<em>

But that does little to quell the stress, and I am unable to sleep for the rest of the night. So to blow off steam I continue to pace the room, do push-ups until my arms feel like jelly (7 proper ones, and 27 while cheating), and sit-ups until I grow bored.

I read horror manga on my laptop in an attempt to redirect the anxiety until I see the sun rise. Slipping back into bed, lest someone comes to check up on me or something, I fall asleep for an hour or so from exhaustion.

I'm woken by the sound of early risers. _That's right, that idiot's leaving today._

Dino eats breakfast with Tsuna and them while I lurk in the stairwell, glaring at the back of his shaggy blond head. Nothing that Reborn or anyone else has said, or can say, will be able to change my mind. I'm convinced that it's Dino who stole the documents. It _must_ be him! I mean...who else could it have been?

_Now, the question is, how do I get the stuff back from him?_

Before he steps out, he gives Nana-san a charming smile (_don't let him dupe you, Nana-san!_), and thanks her for the food and letting him stay. He compliments her greatly, and then shares a laugh with her as Lambo and I-Pin, already hyper, jump on him.

Luckily for the King of Idiots, Tsuna opens the door at that moment, and Romario greets them, saving him from another possibly embarrassing/painful fall. Peering around Tsuna, I see that there's an entire entourage here to pick the Cavallone boss up.

"Why...Why are you guys here? I didn't ask you to pick me up..."

"No one came to pick you up boss!"

"Yeah!"

"I was just taking a stroll and ended up here!"

"Me too!"

"What a coincidence! Same here!"

"You 'took a walk' all the way from the hotel in front of the train station to here!" the tenth Cavallone boss exclaims.

I whistle internally. That's pretty far from here. _I wouldn't believe that he's __that__ accident-prone unless I saw it for myself..._ But from what I've seen, he can't be _that_ bad. Though something tells me not to underestimate the circumstances...

I walk over to the front door, standing just behind Tsuna.

"Kariya-san! Good morning!" he welcomes. Then his brow creases. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"Good morning Juudaime!" I'm saved by Gokudera who's just come running down the street. "I woke up really early today and I couldn't get back to sleep so I was wandering around and ended up here!" He gives Tsuna a bright smile. Then he glances warily at the Cavallone men as he walks past them. "Anyway...who are all these guys...?"

Dino greets him at the door, "Hey Smokin' Bomb...It's our first time meeting, isn't it?"

"That tattoo...Bucking Horse Dino!" he exclaims, then he pushes Tsuna back into the house, distancing Tsuna from Dino. I side-step them to avoid a collision.

"Heh...Say bye to your sister for me when you see her (she's still sleeping)."

Gokudera tenses and I see sticks of dynamite slide into his hands. I silently egg him on before I freeze, and begin sending him reverse signals—I still need this man alive if I'm to get the documents back from him.

Tsuna quickly averts the impending disaster. "G-Gokudera-kun! Are you feeling better now?"

"Of course, as Juudaime's right-hand man, I can't let a stupid cold stop me!"

Dino turns to me and pats me on the head. I return the action with a scowl. He just laughs pleasantly, reminding me for a moment of Yamamoto. "I'll see you later, Kariya. Be good alright?"

"Che!" I turn away from him.

"Kariya-san..." Tsuna groans.

_No, I have to at least put up the _pretence _of civility. _I turn back slowly, grumbling under my breath, "Have a safe trip, Cavallone Decimo..."

Reborn hops onto Dino's shoulder as the Cavallone boss closes the door behind him. Tsuna walks into the kitchen, leaving me alone with Gokudera. I wait a few moments before pressing my ear to the door.

"Che. What the hell are you doing you idiot?"

"Shut up!" I growl. "I'm trying to listen!"

Gokudera scoffs, but complies. I know that that's also piqued his interest. He takes a seat on the stairs, listening in as well, though I'm willing to bet that he can't actually hear anything from over there.

Reborn asks Dino, "So what do you think of Tsuna's family?"

"It's always good for them to have strong bonds. From what I've seen, they need to trust one another more—especially Kariya. They'll do for now; but I'll have to test them some other time, when I come back..."

"And you'll—"

"Yes," Dino interrupts Reborn, and I glance out the peephole, surprised that Reborn doesn't say anything. But I quickly press my ear back to the door when Dino begins to speak again. _"...Though I'll have to tell her not to break them."_

"Aah."

Confused, I head into the kitchen to find the Tsuna seated at the table, waiting for me. It looks like I won't understand any more of their words, and it looks like their conversation is drawing to a close and I don't want to be caught blatantly eavesdropping on Reborn _by_ Reborn...

_But how could all of this be connected?_

"We're going to meet Yamamoto today, aren't we?" Tsuna reminds me.

I frown slightly. Technically speaking, Yamamoto had only invited him... But I'll just be in the stands again—it'll give me time to think things over. I deliberate for a moment before shrugging and replying, "Ye—_**eahh!**_" I stumble over Lambo, who just cackles and runs away.

"Can we come too?" Fuuta asks, pulling my arm in an attempt to help me up.

"Eh..." Tsuna shoots a glance at me.

"Why not..." I say, getting to my feet. _That __**kid...**__I ought to..._

There's the sound of stumbling footsteps and a crash from the hallway. The impact is accompanied by childish laughter and a high-pitched rebuke. Overtop all the commotion is an: "_**Ahoushi!**_"

* * *

><p>Reborn catches us as we're leaving the house. He punishes Tsuna with a kick to the head for trying to 'sneak out of the house'—which might explain the shifty glances and the attempted tip-toeing.<p>

I'm so distracted that by the time I'm fully aware of my surroundings again, a shirtless Yamamoto runs up to us in the stands.

I'm vaguely aware of Fuuta's question at some point during the walk here. I look down at the little boy seated next to me, feet swinging as he laughs at something that Lambo and I-Pin are doing. I'm pretty sure he didn't say anything when he realized my attention was elsewhere, just politely left me to my thoughts. A thoughtful action, yes, though a fruitless one—Yamamoto's interrupted my epic battle plan involving breaking and entering and threatening a mafia boss with blackmail material that I don't have, and a whole lot of flippy tricks and somersaults that are physically impossible for me.

"Haha~ Gokudera, you're better now!" Yamamoto slings an arm around Gokudera and me.

"No shit! Get off of me you baseball-idiot!"

I squirm a bit uncomfortably, but Yamamoto doesn't budge. "Ahh, yes!" he says, as if just suddenly remembering his purpose here. "We need someone to play right field since we're a player short again." Yamamoto looks hopefully at Tsuna.

Tsuna holds up his hands, waving them frantically while shaking his head. "No! No way!"

"Juudaime doesn't have to if he doesn't want to!"

Reborn smirks and Tsuna screams when he sees his expression. I give a grimace. _Poor kid..._

I continue to plan my crashing of the Cavallone mansion. First I'll have to get some sort of floor plan, and of course I'll need to do a little _espionage_. High-tech lasers, cherry bombs, walkie-talkies and other secret agent gadgets are a _must._ I'll also need a—"_Gyah!"_

I find myself falling forward, tripping over the metal bench in front of me, instead of watching Tsuna roll down the bleachers once again. If not for Yamamoto, then it would've been pretty ugly.

"Haha~ Are you okay, Kari-chan?" Yamamoto pulls me up.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I whip around to glare at Reborn, rubbing the baby-sized footprint off the back of my shirt. But I find that he's already gone, leaving a bewildered Tsuna behind with a screaming (_at what?_) Gokudera and little Fuuta holding tightly to an excited Lambo and I-Pin.

Yamamoto cheerily drags me along down to the dugout. "But—But I didn't—I didn't volunteer!" I struggle against his grip. "Why don't you pick one of _them_?" I gesture at the girls at the front of the bleachers who are glowering at me.

"Haha~ this'll be fun, you'll see, Kari-chan!" Yamamoto doesn't seem to hear me, or maybe I'm being ignored.

'_Help me!'_ I mouth up at Tsuna.

Said boy looks at me helplessly, and I realize that it's useless to struggle. I give up on resisting Yamamoto, and just follow along.

"It's shirts and skins...so you'll be playing for the other team, Kari-chan," he explains with a smile, tossing me a glove. On almost anyone else in this situation, that smile would've been deemed perverted, but with Yamamoto, I doubt his innocent mind would even consider such a thing.

I catch the glove a bit clumsily (a bit _too_ clumsily considering I'll be playing _baseball_ in a few moments). It's a bit big for me, but I make do with it—it's not like I'm a serious contender anyway. They just need someone to fill the empty spot.

"Your position is over there." He points towards the outfield.

"Alright. Thanks," I mutter.

"Good luck!" He laughs.

I return his smile a little wryly, but return it nonetheless.

One player on the skin team wolf-whistles at me—I think it's Mazda, the one that was flirting with the girls at the last practice—and some others make cat-calls.

My suspicions on the boy's identity are confirmed when I hear Yamamoto say, "Come on Mazda-senpai, leave her alone."

"You don't get it, do you, my kohai? Watch your senpai and learn," he replies in what I really hope isn't his rendition of a 'suave' manner.

Before Yamamoto can 'learn' anything from that creep, another guy on the skin team says in a calm voice, "You'll hit on anything that moves, however, I have yet to see you actually succeed, Mazda." I think it might be Honda...not too sure on that.

"Hn." I smirk at his remark.

As I move into my position, the people on the same team as me recognize me coolly, either with a short nod, or not at all. Rude much?

_I'll show them!_

Um.

..._Yeah..._

...I have no idea how baseball works, so I'll just follow whatever everyone else still modestly dressed does.

* * *

><p>No one told me that playing in the right field was so...<em>boring.<em> It seems as if all of the players are right-handed, so most of the balls are being hit out towards the left field. And when it's hit in my direction, there's never much power behind it, and it usually skitters over to first base or is caught by all the other people in front of me.

So I just pace around in a tiny circle, kicking at the lush green grass.

When we switch it up at the half-inning, I wander back into the dugout with the rest of the team I'm on. I watch as Yamamoto makes an insane pitch—always giving the batter a strike on his first try, then easing up on his next pitch so that the batter has a chance to hit. And when it's my turn to bat, I push other guys up in front of me, messing up their batting order, until the assistant manager forces me up to home plate with a stern look.

With two outs already, if I strikeout as well, then it'll start a new inning. So, in layman's terms, it's all on me. The bases are loaded, and if I can get this, then the team I'm on will be able to pull ahead by a _very_ slim lead of one point.

_But_ I don't take to being forced to do something too kindly, so I amble on past the assistant manager, pulling the helmet on slowly, trying to draw out the action for as long as I can. When I approach home plate, I just stand there, in my attempt to replicate the others' batting stances.

I face Yamamoto on the pitcher's mound with a glare on my face. He smiles at me nonetheless. He closes his eyes for a moment, and everything seems to go still, then he winds his arm. And when he pitches, all I feel is a blast of air as the ball breezes past me.

"_Strike one!"_

My brow scrunches up even further as the catcher—I think it's Honda behind the mask—tosses the ball back to Yamamoto, and I settle into my stance, hands tightening on the grip—I know I'm not holding it correctly or standing properly, but hell, I'm irritated beyond measure! I'll do what I want.

Yamamoto catches the ball and grins at me again, and I prepare myself as he winds his arm again. Adhering to the pattern that he'd established, this time I _do_ see the ball coming, yet I still can't bring the bat around in time for it to connect.

"_Strike two!"_

I manage a late half-swing before the bat spins out of my hands. Behind me, Honda leaps to the side as the loose bat streaks towards him, just managing to clip him on the side of his face guard.

_Screw this!_ I storm over to retrieve the bat that he meekly offers me, wrenching it out of his hands with neither a thank you nor apology.

I hadn't planned on actually trying—what with the steely scowl the assistant manager had given me—but ooh boy, _this just became personal._

I hold onto the bat even tighter this time, and I make sure my eyes never leave the ball. It seems to go silent as Yamamoto catches the ball, tossing it a couple of times into his gloved hand. I settle into my awkward stance, tensing, getting ready to spring into action—to bring the bat around, to follow through with a grand _crack_ and to throw the bat aside, running, running, _running._

Yamamoto winds his arm, preparing to throw.

A small voice breaks through my concentration. "Go Kari-nee! You can do this!" Fuuta's words seem to pierce right through me.

_He's...cheering for me... They're...cheering _me_ on..._

There's a solid thud behind me, and I turn my head to see the ball clutched in Honda's hands, and just in time to hear: "_Strike three! You're out!"_

"**Dammit!"**

* * *

><p>I return to my lonely position in the outfield, this time with an even bigger scowl on my face. When we switched out at the start of the new inning (thanks to my failure...), Mazda told me in a teasing tone that if I kept frowning, when the wind blew, my face would stay like that.<p>

I almost started a fight there and then. My fuse has been torn and hacked away at, and I'm at the very limits of my patience. If not for Yamamoto and Honda's quick intervention, the team would be missing one Mazda-senpai for their next game.

I've heard _crack _after _crack_ of successful hits during the last few innings; yet, instead of studying their batting stances, or observing the little cues between the pitcher and the catcher, I content myself to glaring at every blade of grass as if they, personally, are the sole reason for my misery.

Then, when we're on the defensive again, in an angry huff, I curse my right-fielder position and sit down in the outfield, transferring my glare from the field to the batters. The bases are empty, and both teams' scores are still tied.

Isuzu swings a fraction too late and hits a pop fly which is easily caught by the pitcher whose name I've forgotten. He's the other team's first strikeout.

Next up is Subaru who, in his nervousness, forgets to swing on the first pitch, misses on the second, and finally hits a single on his third try. My eyes follow the ball lazily as it flies towards the left field. Subaru speeds to first base, the ball arriving there a few seconds (much too) late to tag him out, and he breathes a relieved sigh, pausing on the dual-coloured first base. I have to smile at his reaction.

My lip twitches and curls in disgust as I see Mazda step up to the plate. "This one's for you!" he calls out, pointing his bat at me. I watch as he swings the bat, testing it out, and no doubt trying to show off. I sigh in disappointment as I see him hit the ball on his first try.

Subaru runs to second base as soon as he sees the ball fly towards third. Mazda sprints for first, then speeds past it, onwards to the occupied second base. Subaru stares at him like a frightened rabbit as his senpai yells at him madly to "_Run! Run! Run!"_

Subaru just freezes like a deer in headlights, unsure of what to do. At this point, the ball has landed at the third baseman's feet. He quickly scoops it up into his hand. Seeing this, as well as Subaru's inability to move, Mazda skids to a halt before turning back to first base. The third baseman, taking Subaru's petrified status into account (though I'd like to think that it's because even his team members have grown tired of Mazda's perversion), throws the ball back to first base.

I leap to my feet, cheering to myself as Mazda's tagged out. I do a happy dance, and then stiffen, returning to an unassuming standing position as I realize that there _is_ an audience, and Mazda's embarrassment is enough—we don't need to add my own. Mazda's the other team's second out. The other team only has one more chance. Mazda, disgraced, shuffles back to the dugout, brushing past his teammates. I smirk at his loss, but a twinge of guilt wipes the smirk from my face.

The next player in the batting order is another nervous-looking boy. Of course he'd be nervous; the whole game is riding on his shoulders. If he can get this, then their team is still in the game, and if not, then the other team wins. He flinches when the assistant manager barks his name. "_Mitsuoka!" _

He shakily gets to his feet, and I recognize him as one of the new players that Yamamoto said that were joining the team. I also recognize him as the only one besides me who had struck out and had never hit the ball even once.

The coach places a hand on his shoulder, murmuring something. The boy nods slowly and somewhat dejectedly then sits back down. The coach makes some wild motions and then there's an explosion of rabid fangirl screaming.

"Nami Chuu's pinch hitter!" the girls squeal.

"_**Kyaaaaaaa!**__" _

"Yamamoto-kun~!"

He smiles lightly at them, and even gives them a wave of acknowledgement which only increases the volume of their screams.

"Go Yamamoto-kun!"

"Your fan club is cheering you on!"

"You can do this!"

He just laughs and flashes a genial smile before donning his helmet and picking the bat up. I guess it's only visible from this angle, because only I can see Yamamoto's default smiley face harden into something that I can't even explain. It's beyond intense. I've seen that look before—_the grim expression of a killer._

With a sharp intake of breath, I choke on my spit. _Classy._

I see the pitcher wind his arm, getting ready for the pitch while I'm coughing and hacking away. I bend over on my knees, coughing loudly. Heads turn to look at me, and I return to glaring at the ground as I finally clear my throat.

"_Uh...I...S-Strike...!(?)"_

Yamamoto hasn't moved—he didn't even _swing_. His eyes are wide and fixated on me, as if I'd just snapped him out of a stupor or something.

"What?" I gasp, careful not to choke again.

My question is echoed by much of the audience.

"What's going on?"

"He _never_ misses!"

"Look!"

"Now what's he doing?"

"Yamamoto-kun!"

"I can't believe it!"

"What? What's he doing?"

"He's switching batting hands."

True to their observations, Yamamoto is switching sides. He steps over home plate to stand on its right side, moving the bat into his left hand.

He grins, scanning the field, eyes landing on me, then he swings the bat before I even realize that ball has been pitched.

The ball flies in a perfect arc at me, and surprised, I watch it. While people are yelling at me from left, right and centre, all I can do is watch it soar through the air towards me. It lands at my feet, rolling through my legs. I pick it up, unsure of what to do, or where to throw it.

Yamamoto jogs past first base and the first baseman ceases his yelling and wild gesticulations and just settles for a heavy groan and a facepalm.

"Come on! Let's go," Yamamoto says as he reaches second base, slinging his arm around Subaru, who seems to unfreeze. They both trot past me, while the second baseman shrieks at me and did he just _stomp his foot at me?_ I think he did.

Their yells are so disorienting, so irritating. They're all demanding I do this and that, and throw it here, throw it there. Demanding, ordering—_commanding_ me to do something, _anything!_

I give a wild yell, closing my eyes and throwing the ball. I don't even bother seeing where it lands before opening my eyes and storming towards the dugout.

Yamamoto and Subaru saunter past home plate, earning two points for their team and thereby winning the game.

I scowl at the sight. _But at least it's all over now..._

And then I promptly fall on my face. I'd slipped on the baseball that I'd thrown. It rolls in front of my face, taunting me—_Karma's a bitch, ne?_

I stand up, brushing myself off, and kick it away from me. The evil ball rolls away to rest at Yamamoto's feet. He pulls his other arm through his shirt, smoothing it down before picking the ball up, running over to me. "Kari-chan! Good game, hunh?"

I glance at him from the corner of my eye, deadpanning. "Awesome."

"Haha~ See? I told you!" He ruffles my hair and tosses the ball to his coach as he passes him. "Did you know that I have a fan club?" he asks good-naturedly as if having hordes of girls stalking you is perfectly normal.

_Well it's probably normal for him…_

I nod. "It's for you, the Home-Run Machine. Why else do the girls come here? Surely not for Mazda…" I laugh harshly to myself, and Yamamoto's smile tightens just a little at the corners.

I stop abruptly, looking up at him, almost afraid to see that expression again. But his eyes clear and slide over to a point just beyond my shoulder, and his smile comes back—his normal, easy smile. "Hey!" he calls. "Subaru!"

"Hey, Yamamoto," the brown-haired boy greets, looking desolate and defeated. "I'm sorry about that out there. I don't know what happened...I just froze. I didn't know what to do," he says, hanging his head in shame.

"Hey, it's no big deal!" Yamamoto says, patting him on the shoulder. "How about you meet me here tomorrow morning and I'll practise with you?"

"Really?" Subaru looks up at him with wide eyes.

"Sure!"

"Alright! Thanks Yamamoto!" He bows and runs off, waving.

Yamamoto waves back, laughing lightly.

"Umm, Yamamoto-san..." The skinny boy Mitsuoka approaches tentatively. "Ano...would it be alright if I practised with you tomorrow too?"

"Yup!" he answers with a smile.

"A-A-Alright. Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow then," Mitsuoka says, growing red in the face as he sees my unimpressed expression. He bows deeply and makes his escape.

I think it's an appropriate time now to show him exactly how much he owes me for dragging me into such a foreign game like that. "Yamamoto..." I begin angrily.

"Hunh?" He turns back to me with an extra wide smile. "Do you want to come too?"

"I—! " All of that rage sputters out as I gape at his offer. I scowl at him when I find my voice. "...Don't _ever_ voluntell me again."

"Haha~" he laughs, swinging his arm across my shoulders. "Sure, sure."

"I'm serious!"

"Yup, yup~"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Ooh boy. I've never played baseball in my life other than for a few days in gym class. And I really don't think that soccer-baseball (AKA kickball) really counts. As well, Wikipedia doesn't really give you a real _feel _to the game, if you know what I mean.

So if you have any experience or knowledge at all and you've spotted some mistakes in this chapter, please tell me! Research only goes so far. ^_^"

And I had to split this chapter and the next chapter up— because together, they were about 10,000 words... So after a few more edits and touch-ups, it'll be up~


	14. Forceful Suggestion

**Chapter 14**

**Forceful Suggestion**

* * *

><p>It's not until we're on our way back that I realize that just for those few hours, even through the boredom of right-field, I hadn't thought of the missing documents, or the knife, or Cavallone even once...<p>

Yamamoto and Gokudera stay for dinner again, and when I ask Yamamoto rudely if he has a home to return to and if he does then why doesn't he get a move on already, he only replies with a laugh and an "I thought you'd like some company!" while Gokudera grumbles along with me. Though we don't usually see eye-to-eye, we stand united against a common enemy—The Smiling Menace.

Nana-san doesn't seem to mind the extra mouths to feed. She just busies herself in the kitchen and tells them to make themselves comfortable. _Thanks Nana-san..._

Today, dinner seems a lot more relaxed. I can feel it, although I remain silent once again. The only thing that's different is the fact that Nana-san's finally caught on to my selective eating habits. She prepares a special dish of nothing but vegetables just for me, and even presents it to me in her finest china...placed right in front of me.

She smiles brightly. "That's all for you, Kariya-chan!"

There's malice behind that smile and in every single one of those carrots. The broccolis are taunting me—they seem to be multiplying every time I look down at them. And the more that I pick at the dish, the more cabbage there seems to be.

Yamamoto laughs. "That's good protein!"

_Don't agree with her!_

But he steals bean sprouts from the plate when he thinks that no one's looking. I glower at him for the rest of the meal. I may hate most vegetables, but I actually _like_ bean sprouts.

After my bath, I find the three boys as well as Reborn situated in the room that I'd been given.

"What's going on here?" I ask, glancing around at them all. "I thought you all went home."

"Sit down," Reborn says.

I make my way across the room to sit on the bed, as far away from them as possible. They're creeping me out with this tense atmosphere.

"Don't you think it's time you told us everything?" Reborn says seriously.

"Every…thing…?" I repeat slowly.

"Everything about your past... _All of it._"

"I don't feel like it. I'm tired." I bring my knees up to my chest, moving away so that my back is pressed against the wall, and shuffle my feet awkwardly.

"It's just a suggestion..." Reborn says with a smirk.

My skin crawls. _That's totally not '__just__' a suggestion...!_

But I glare at the ground just at Reborn's feet, tight-lipped. When I don't respond, I feel Reborn's aura intensify, and I shrink back. _His intimidation factor is hundreds of times scarier than Hibari's... It's almost __tangible_!

"Is this part of the mafia game too? Is Kari-chan the new player?" The tense silence is broken by Yamamoto, who sprawls out on the bed next to me, leaning back with his hands behind his head. Either he's really oblivious to the seriousness of the situation, or he's trying to ease the tension. Either way, I'm both exasperated at his naïveté, yet thankful for it at the same time.

"You idiot! How many times have I told you? Get serious!" Gokudera reprimands.

_So Yamamoto's part of Tsuna's family as well... That means that as of right now, Tsuna's family consists of Bomber-Boy, Smiley, Sunny-D(?) and me._

I'm unsure of how to respond, so I wait for one of the three other males to say something.

"This isn't a game, Yamamoto..." Tsuna sighs dejectedly. It seems like this is a common thing for Yamamoto to say. _Really? I thought he was dense...but not __that__ dense..._

An awkward silence fills the room. This time it's Reborn who breaks it. "What do you know of the stolen documents?"

"I told you," I say, trying hard to keep the growl out of my voice as I become defensive. "I didn't steal them!"

"I'm not accusing you," Reborn says evenly. "I'm just asking you if you have any idea who could've done it."

I shake my head. "The only people that I know from Namimori are people that you know."

"Hmm..."

"And besides, I thought you said you knew who it was," I add.

Reborn thinks for a moment before saying, "Well, I'm tired. I'm going to sleep now."

"Goodnight!" Yamamoto calls before Reborn slips out of the room.

"Goodnight, Reborn-san!"

"He ignored me..." I say incredulously. "_He __ignored__ me!"_

"Eh, _um!_" Tsuna intervenes, "Why would they want your documents anyway, Kariya-san?"

I look back at him sharply, remembering the situation at hand. I lean back against the wall, glowering as I shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine."

We lapse into silence, mulling over the possibilities in our heads... Well, at least, that's what _I'm_ doing. Tsuna just looks unsettled and just a tad bit lost. Gokudera looks like he just _might_ be considering the suspects. Yamamoto has his trademark airhead smile on his face. "Haha~ without any of your documents, it's like you don't exist, Kari-chan!"

The room falls utterly silent.

"That's it," I breathe. "_That's _**it**_." _I can't believe Yamamoto was the first one to figure it out—I can't believe that _**I**_ didn't think of that. This connects all of the pieces of information. "Someone still wants me dead," I say, finally realizing the potential danger, the gravity, of the situation. "This way, if they kill me, there are no documents leading to me. No one will notice the death of a person who never existed."

"We would!" Tsuna speaks up, and I look at him, taken aback at his unusually aggressive response, "I... I mean, even if someone destroyed all of your files, the people around you, _we_ would know that you were missing."

Yamamoto blinks, looking a bit lost. "I don't really get it, but if you go missing, we'd look for you, Kari-chan. You're our friend!" He laughs.

"You wouldn't be able to fully erase someone's existence," Gokudera says matter-of-factly.

I frown, turning away. "You guys don't get it. Destroying the documents would only cover the legalities, as you've said. But I can't even stress how _easy_ it is to make a person forget your existence."

"What do you mean by that?" Gokudera asks.

"Do you guys know what…_illusions _are?"

"Illusions? Like magic tricks?" Yamamoto supplies.

"You idiot, if you're not gonna' be serious about this then just shut up!" the bomber growls.

"Umm. Not really." I manage a small smile at Yamamoto's eagerness. "Ah. Remember that day that you guys were coming over to the house?

"The house?" Gokudera repeats.

"Yeah, to work on the science project?"

"Haha~ the one that we barely passed?"

"Heh. Yeah, that one," I answer, barely managing a smile. "Hey...Tsuna, are you okay?" I glance at the boy on the ground.

"Juudaime! Juudaime! Please! Get it together! Hang in there!"

Sad boy is clutching his head on the floor. "_Barely passed? That was the highest mark I've ever gotten in science…"_

Yamamoto looks at him. "Eh...Tsuna?"

"I'm…I'm good. Sorry, Kariya-san, please continue."

"Um. Well, you all saw the house burn, ne?"

"Mhmm."

"Tsuna, you didn't go inside, but Yamamoto, Gokudera, you guys did. Do you remember what you saw?"

"Oh. Yeah. There was this lady—your mom right?"

"Not my mom. She was an illusion."

"Yeah, there was this little girl, too."

"Ah, yes! That's right! My arm passed right through her," Yamamoto says, recalling the memory.

Tsuna listens in silence with a confused expression on his face.

I sigh. "It's like this," I say before conjuring up the illusion.

"Hiieee!" Tsuna yelps, jumping back.

Gokudera springs to his feet at the apparition. The illusory woman smiles consolingly at me and I manage a grimace back at her.

"Hi again!" Yamamoto greets.

She laughs lightly at him. "It's nice to see you again, Yamamoto-kun."

"Heya," I say shortly. "I need you to show these kids how illusions work." I turn back to the brunet. "Stand up," I order.

When he doesn't respond, I sigh impatiently and get up to yank him to his feet a little forcefully. (_"Oi! Don't touch Juudaime like that!"_). I pull his hand out, and despite his protests, I manipulate his arm so that it swings back and forth, cutting through the illusion in several places. "You see here? That's an illusion. It has no form. Get it? Got it? Good."

I dismiss the illusion without another word. It always makes me irritable to create illusions of the 'people' posing as my family.

I plop back down on the bed, and move over ever so slightly so I don't sit on Yamamoto. He rolls over onto his side, and pulls at the corners of my red plaid pyjamas. He's managed to unbutton the bottom button with one hand before I snap out of my annoyed reverie and realize it. I smack his hand away with a sharp slap on his wrist—more noise than actual force. He pulls his hand back with an amused smile while I button it back up. But that's effectively snapped me out of my stormy, almost nonsensical, rage.

I look back at the other two, who, thankfully, look like they're thinking things over. I continue in my explanation, and they look back at me. "There are illusions...in which you _create_, like I just showed you. And then there are illusions in which you _destroy._"

"Destroy? What do you mean by that?" Tsuna questions me.

"Show us." My blood runs cold at Yamamoto's light-hearted suggestion.

"_No,_" I snap, and his eyes open in mild surprise. I quickly amend, "I mean...well, it's not _really_ like destroying something...but rather like..._erasing._"

"What's wrong with showing us that?"

"Yamamoto..." I say tightly. "I can...erase people's memories..." Yamamoto whistles, and I give him a small smile, trying to smother my distress. "I only use those kinds of illusions when I absolutely _have _to—like getting past airport security."

"What about cameras?" Gokudera asks skeptically.

"The security people don't remember me either. It's not hard to get rid of the film. Of course, they'll wonder where the security tapes went, but they wouldn't remember me stealing—or rather, taking—them anyway."

They stare and I sigh, "Well, I'm...not very good with illusions, so I try not to depend on them. Like I said—only if and when I have to. I...try not to create illusions to take the place of people's memories, or erase their memories of me—in general, I try not to tamper with their memories..._because_ I'm not skilled with illusions...because...because I could potentially erase their _entire_ memory..."

We lapse into silence.

"...That's cool!"

"Yamamoto..." I sigh.

"It's fine, Kari-chan! You mean well, so it's alright!"

"Yamamoto's right, Kariya-san. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself for something like that," Tsuna's brown eyes are trained on me, and I feel compelled to nod in response even though I disagree.

"But..." Gokudera speaks up, watching Yamamoto pick at some fluff on the blanket. "Wouldn't they catch up to you sooner or later?"

I grimace before replying. "Yes..." I say slowly. "They have. That's why I was so suspicious before."

"Who's _'they'_?" Yamamoto sits up, blinking innocently. I'm certain that that innocence masks true predatory perspicacity—he's unusually perceptive today.

"'They' were many different people, all with their own reasons," I answer as truthfully as I can force the words out. I have to try and be more honest, or else Reborn will have my ass.

"Like what?" he presses me, still keeping up that naive front.

"...Like the Gi—" I bite my tongue, covering my slip with a cough. They peer at me curiously until I grace them with an answer. "Like...the Vongola Famiglia."

"Why would the Vongola want you dead?" Tsuna asks. Throughout this entire '_conversation_' (read: interrogation), Tsuna's expression has gradually grown more and more confused, yet, he continues to pelt me with concerned questions. Gokudera's frown deepens and he seems to be the only one that contributing his thoughts on this (read: shoving his opinions in my face). Yamamoto listens in, smile becoming smaller and smaller, though it never falters. _I doubt he's even really taking in all this information, much less understanding it..._ But something tells me not to underestimate him—he shows flashes of great insight at times, _while other times..._ Not so much, ne?

"Well I wanted to kill _you_, ne?" I respond a bit mordantly, giving him a blank stare. I turn away from him, glaring at the floor. "They probably wanted to kill me before I could get to you."

"Che!" Gokudera scoffs.

Tsuna regards me with wide eyes; there's no fear or surprise in them, but they're filled with sincere distress. "But why—"

I cut him off before he can frame his question. No doubt he's sympathizing with me again. And I just want to drop the subject. "I would've gone after the other ones, but someone got to them before I did..." My eyes unfocus as I think aloud to myself. "...And I wasn't about to go after _him_. No, I'm not that stupid..."

I'm snapped out of my reminiscing by a string of rapid beeping. Thankfully, I don't think I've revealed too much. I turn to pinpoint the sound.

Of course, Yamamoto's attention is fixated on the cell phone in his hands. When he's finished, he hands the...I guess, _my_ cell phone to me. I take it, and slide it open. Its LCD screen lights up and I find myself facing an atrocious fanged smiley face background that greatly resembles Lambo's drawing on Gokudera's face.

But what pulls my attention away from the smileys is a little red icon that reads: _one new contact added._

"Hey Tsuna! Do you have a cell phone? Kari-chan can add you too!"

"Eh...no."

I quickly (or, not so quickly) navigate (read: stumble like a peg-legged pirate in Swan Lake) through the phone's functions. I scroll past the photo gallery, ringtone and general settings buttons to find my contact list.

"—added myself to your speed dial as well! Haha~"

I have a grand total of _one_ contact—Yamamoto Takeshi.

"What about you, Gokudera?"

"Why would I give this idiot my number?"

"Haha~"

"Che." Gokudera scoffs again. "Oi, you," he addresses me.

I slide the phone shut with a sharp _click_, raising an eyebrow at his tone, but refrain from retorting. I place it down on the bedside table.

He continues, holding up my wakizashis, "Why are there all these names written on these sheathes?"

My eyes widen, and I automatically (read: redundantly) lift my pillow up to check for my weapons.

He reads off a few names, "Senna, Hunter, Stone, Pierce."

"Are they the names of your past victims?" Yamamoto asks cheerily.

"Yamamoto!" Tsuna cries.

"Oh..." Yamamoto seems to realize the inappropriateness of his comment. "Then...is that your hit list?"

_Never mind..._

"You idiot," Gokudera says, thrusting the red scabbard into Yamamoto's face. "Read the very last name that's written on here."

"Eh...It's all in English..." Yamamoto laughs.

"Che! It says 'Asunake'. Ring any bells?" Gokudera glares at Yamamoto's expression. "Yeah. That's right. Still think that it's a hit list?"

"It could've been a failed hit list...Did you ever think of that, genius?" I growl. "Now give them back!"

That shuts him up. I grab both scabbards back from Gokudera. "These names...they're here to remind me of my identity. I've...changed my last name every time I've moved. I don't really have one. I suppose I _had_ one. I remember having parents, but not _them._ I don't remember what _they_ were like."

"So that's why..."

"What?"

"You don't look Japanese or Italian..." Yamamoto regards me with a critical eye, tilting his head to the side. He pulls a strand of my hair. Black hair and brown eyes that are too light to be fully Asian... I'd have to say you're a mix of Asian and something else..."

"White?" I suggest, pushing my hair back behind my ear—it's growing a bit too long for my liking. The last time I'd cut it was last year when I stopped in Italy. My hair's now at that awkward stage, just past the shoulder and starting to flip up at the ends in random directions.

"Eh, I don't think 'White' is a race, Kariya-san," Tsuna says.

"Maa...I think I should get going now. I'll see you guys later, alright?" Yamamoto stands.

I breathe a sigh of relief as the three boys stand, leaving the room.

"'Night..." Gokudera mumbles.

"Goodnight, Kari-chan!"

I nod in reply as the door closes. I hear them make their way downstairs and as they say their goodbyes.

* * *

><p>"Why did you leave, Reborn?" Tsuna asks as he walks up the stairs to find the baby hitman standing there, arms crossed, like he was waiting for him.<p>

"She's still wary around me. I figured that she'd open up to you three a lot more easily."

"W-What?"

"She genuinely likes you, though she's still bitter over your title of Decimo—"

"_I don't wanna be a–!"_

"You'll be a mafia boss when I'm through with you. And don't interrupt!" Reborn shoots him a look. "She seems to be more open around Yamamoto; you too, should've noticed this."

"You were listening in, weren't you?" Tsuna accuses.

Reborn just nods. "She knew that I was. Just as I know that she is right now. Right, Kariya? I know you're listening to us."

_Booked._ I open the door, peering out. "Yeah. I figured as much. It's what I would've done as well, as demonstrated now," I say, gesturing at myself.

Reborn's lips curve up into a smile as he speaks, "And don't think for a moment that I didn't notice that you didn't say anything about your past."

"I did."

"Not _everything_ like I'd asked you to."

"I…didn't feel much like sharing," I reply, gritting my teeth. "Good night."

"You saw him, didn't you?" It's more of a flat statement rather than a question.

I stiffen, reminding myself not to glare before turning back to look at Reborn. "'Him'? I don't know what you're talking about."

"You saw _him_, and then you ran away."

My eyes narrow.

"You were scared of him, weren't you? Is that why you decided to go after Dame-Tsuna instead?"

I slam the door closed behind me, but not quickly enough. I catch Reborn's sarcastic remark: "You knew you'd have to face him sooner or later if you wanted the title, so that makes you a coward, doesn't it Kariya? Do you not think you're strong enough?"

* * *

><p><em>I. Am. <em>**Not.**_**Weak**__**.**_

_I. Am. _**Not. **_**A **__**Coward.**_

_I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of __**anything **or **anyone.**_

* * *

><p>Tsuna sleeps fitfully. He can't help but feel that something's...wrong. He can't quite place his finger on it, but he knows that it's got something to do with Kariya-san, and the feeling can't possibly mean anything good.<p>

But no matter how many times he tries to tell himself that whatever it is, it'll work out somehow, the anxiety rises up within him. The sensation follows him into his dreams.

Gokudera-kun and Yamamoto are facing away from him, calling out into the distance, their voices echoing. He calls out to them, and they turn to face him, pained expressions on their features.

They gesticulate wildly towards the distance, and run off. He turns to see what they're running after, and, still not seeing it, he follows, yelling for them to wait.

They don't wait, so he speeds up, running as fast as he can. There are many people also running along with him—some he knows, and some he doesn't. They stop at a fenced off area where a crowd has started to gather. Some people have worried looks—Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto, and Kyoko-chan, with Onii-san. But others carry heavy scowls and even heavier weaponry. Tsuna can't see their faces, but he can sense their hatred.

Onii-san grabs his wrist, shouting at him over the din, and forges a path through the throng to the very front of the mob. That's when he sees what they've been chasing. Part of him already knew who it was, but all the same, he'd been dreading it.

Cornered, and pressed against the graffiti-covered wall is Kariya-san. She's curled up, with her knees to her chest and hands covering her head.

He calls her name and Yamamoto waves at her. She peers up warily, then with a relieved smile as she recognizes them.

A tall man floats over them, hovering in the air in a blaze of unspeakable things. Tsuna shivers, and freezes, unable to finish his action of hopping over the cement barrier. He turns his head slowly to find that so have the rest of his friends.

There's that flash of fear across her face, quickly covered up with anger, her fists clenching as she turns away from Tsuna, stepping through the wall.

The man flies through the air, speeding after her. Tsuna cringes as he disappears through the wall as well.

At that, they all seem to unfreeze, and Tsuna and his friends rush forward. To his surprise and terror, so have the armed men. The sight makes him speed up, only to be repelled by the wall. Tsuna cries out when he sees that the scowling people carrying weapons are all let through, charging through the barrier with howls of rage. Tsuna desperately pounds on the brick walls.

He stirs in his sleep, half-consciously pushing a hare-brained idea away from him.

_Kariya-san wouldn't leave. She's not one to run away from her problems, right?_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

So what do you think? Fight or flight?

The next chapter won't be up for at least two weeks. Unless there's a miracle and this rock brain of mine turns into a sponge brain and I absorb all of the information I need. Has anyone else ever taken music theory? Well, I have exams... T_T So I'll see you all later if I survive these next few rough weeks of studying/homeworking or my own fail driving—yeah, the terror of the roads is me. And as a new driver, I have to say, damn, it's scary. xO

Anyway, I would like to say thank you to all you reviewers, especially you anonymous reviewers, since I can't reply to you directly. Thanks for all the support, critiques and comments alike! You guys are just as awesome, if not more, than Prussia~


	15. Fight & Flight & Cleaning Up After Both

**Chapter 15**

**Fight and Flight and Cleaning Up After Both**

* * *

><p>"Oi, Tsuna. Wake up."<p>

"Reborn..." he mumbles. "It's too early..."

"I let you sleep in today, Tsuna. It's already ten o'clock."

He kicks him out of bed. "You should make sure all of your subordinates are well and accounted for."

"Mmm...What...? What subordinates?"

Reborn cocks his gun.

"HIIEEE! Alright! Alright! I'm up!"

"Good, now go check on your subordinates."

"Geez..." Tsuna complains, stepping out of his room with a yawn. He rubs his eyes sleepily as he shuffles over to the adjacent room. He knocks lightly on the door.

There is no reply.

So he knocks again. And when there is still no reply, he calls, "I'm coming in, Kariya-san." Brow furrowed at the lack of response, he pauses in the hallway, just listening. There is no sound at all.

He opens the door.

He opens the door to a room devoid of any life. The room is a total mess, like there had been a fight, or if someone had hurriedly bundled up their belongings and fled.

"So? What's with the holdup, Dame-Tsuna?"

"She's gone!" he exclaims, disbelieving. Never for a moment had he even considered the possibility that she would just up and leave.

"Oh, she is, is she?" Reborn remarks lightly. "Oh, she left her cell phone here as well...that's too bad. We won't be able to track her down like that."

Tsuna picks up the abandoned cell phone, flipping it open to find that the fanged smiley wallpaper had been replaced by a somewhat blurred candid photo of Yamamoto, Gokudera and himself engaged in some trivial banter.

He snaps to attention, shooting an angry look at Reborn. "It was your fault for provoking her like that!" Tsuna glances frantically around the room, taking in the overturned chair and the bunch of clothes that are strewn everywhere.

"You should go look for her," Reborn says sagely.

"Don't just ignore me!" Tsuna protests. Then, casting another look at the empty room, he pushes the rising panic aside, sighing. "I'll ask Kaa-san if she's seen—"

"Baka-Tsuna, you shouldn't worry Mama," Reborn cuts the boy off. _We'll have her back by the end of the day, anyway. What she doesn't know is that her laptop also has a tracking device in it._

* * *

><p>Reborn's comment rankles me, like little dragons that nip and bite at my ankles, then proceed to eat away at my ego, tearing it to shreds, ribbons of will that scatter in the wind.<p>

I sleep fitfully. My dreams that night are filled with carmine eyes, this time, they're a matching pair that glares at me, piercing my soul, making me freeze in place and wither away. They're not like the regular amused patchwork blue and red eyes nor are they the lavender.

I grow weary of looking at the clock every so often. At 7 in the morning, I leap out of bed, and in my haste, I stub my toe on the desk. Hopping on one foot, I bite back my angry curses, knocking the chair over. I don't bother to pick it up, and settle for rummaging through the closet. I dig through the many clothes like a dog ...doggedly digging holes in the neighbour's petunias in its search for its bone.

I need to comb my hair—the snarls are really starting to bother me. The problem is, I can't seem to locate the purple comb. I toss more clothes out of the closet, hoping to uncover its hiding spot.

"Aha!" I murmur at my success, extracting the bag of things that Bianchi had given me. The comb should be in there. I stuff the entire plastic bag in alongside my laptop.

I pluck some clothes from the random piles around me—the room looks like it's been pockmarked by extensive shelling—a real No Man's Land. I glance outside, the sun has already risen, and it looks like it'll be a fair day.

I reach for the cell phone on the bedside table. My arm pauses in its movement and I grind my teeth before turning away. I purposely leave the cell phone there, tiptoeing down the stairs, and past Nana-san who's humming a tuneless tune in the kitchen.

It seems almost _too_ easy how I managed to leave the house undetected. I was sure that at any given moment, Reborn would pop out of nowhere. _Hmm..._

I comb my hair as I walk, my feet taking me to my destination as my mind wanders. Soon enough, I make it there. _Nami Chuu._ Surprisingly, I find the gate unlocked, and I let myself in, closing it silently behind me. I reach for the front door, and find it unlocked as well.

_That's weird...or rather, not so weird. At least that confirms it—someone's here, and, chances are, it's him. _

I climb the stairs quickly—two, three, four at a time. I step out onto the rooftop, and as usual, I find him on top of the little compound. But this time, he's completely still—sleeping.

"_Hey,_" I call quietly, and when he doesn't respond, a little more forcefully, "**Hey! You! If you're sleeping, **_**wake up**_**, or I'll...**I'll..." I look around for a good threatening object. Then I'm graced with a light-bulb moment that I later find out could possibly have led me to an early death.

I sift through my bag, coming up with the smooth stone that I'd been given along with the rest of the seemingly random objects. With a smile, I wind my arm and whip the rock at his snoozing form. I never expected him to stick an arm up to lazily stop the speeding rock in its lovely arc towards his head.

He sits up with a sleepy look that borders on cross. He yawns and I have to remark on the cuteness factor—other than the fact that he has landed lightly on his feet and is now stalking towards me with the intent to kill. The malicious aura wafts off of him in a purple miasma that's almost physical.

"Fight me," I say simply, which stops him in his tracks, while looking him straight in the eye (until I feel his sharp gaze cut what remains of my ego down to confetti-like scraps that flutter down to the ground; at which point I turn away with a growl to mask my humiliation).

I'm expecting a borderline insane smirk and a "gladly". However, that's not the case. He stands a ways away from me and asks placidly, almost blankly, "Why?"

"Why?" I repeat. "I want to grow stronger," I declare, steeling myself. "Everyone else is a wishy-washy...what do you call them... um...Herbivore. Yeah. Everyone else is herbivorous. So fight me."

"No," he answers immediately.

"Why not?"

"You interrupted my nap..." _Napping? Already? By all means he should've gotten up just a few hours ago! How many hours of sleep does this guy have every day?_ That's when the borderline insane smirk appears, and all other thoughts are banished from my head as he speaks. "...so I guess I'll have to bite you to death."

* * *

><p>Kusakabe bandages my head back together, wrapping the gauze tightly around my skull. I wince a little.<p>

"Che...I just got distracted..." _So _is_ that Yamamoto down there on the field or not? If I don't find out, I'll have gotten beaten for absolutely no reason at all._ "It won't happen again! Meh. Thanks, Suya-san."

"Suya-san?" the vice-chairman of the disciplinary committee repeats.

"Eh?"

"Never mind," he says. He pats me on the head. "You just don't seem to learn from your mistakes, do you?" He sighs before saying, "Do be careful."

"You can go now," Hibari dismisses Suya-san, who bows before disappearing down the stairs.

Hibari saunters over to me, his tonfas seemingly vanished. "Hn. I guess you _are_ an herbivore after all. All bark and no _bite_." He smirks.

I continue to lie on the cement of the school rooftop, wakizashi clutched in my bruised hand, staring straight up at the sky, the brightness hurting my eyes. But I want to lie here forever. "Hibari..." I murmur. "What's the point?"

"...Don't you wish to become stronger?" he asks, borderline curious.

"I do, but—"

"Then don't ask such stupid questions. If you have enough energy for that, we'll go another round..._later_."

_Is he being..._**considerate?**

"Hibari...thank y—"

He pulls a tonfa on me, effectively silencing me.

"It's no fun to bite an herbivore to death when they're down. That's all."

I release my breath in a heavy sigh.

He stalks over, dropping the small rock onto my stomach. I groan a little at the impact on my soon-to-be bruised ribs. "They've been returned," he says.

I roll over, wincing slightly as I roll on top of the rock. "What?"

"The documents, they've been returned."

"Really?" I sit up quickly, and I freeze for a moment, blinking as the blood rushes to my head. I pick the rock up, pocketing it. "When? How? Who did it?" I pester him with questions.

He gives me an irritated look, and I stop in my bombardment, leaving a single question: "Why? Why would they do that? Why would they steal them and then return them?"

Hibari obviously doesn't answer.

* * *

><p>"Where could she have gone?" Tsuna asks to no one in particular. "Lambo! Stop it!" he reprimands as Lambo weaves in and out of his legs, making him stumble every few steps. "Reborn! Why did we have to bring him along?"<p>

"It builds character," is Reborn's nonsensical reply.

"Bianchi!" Tsuna pleads. "Can you please take Lambo? Gah!" He falls over, Lambo scampering off to the side with a triumphant laugh. "...Lambo! Gah...Where could Kariya-san be?"

"I'm right here," I call, finally rounding the corner, tossing the rock up and down in my hand. _I've seen enough._

"HIIEEE! Kariya-san! You're here! Are you okay? You're limping!" Tsuna cries.

"I'm good. I'm not limping. I'm just walking normally."

"Good job, Kariya," Reborn praises.

I blink in surprise, not sure what I did to garner his commendation. So I stick with the safe choice: "Thank...you... (?)"

"Next time pay more attention to the fight at hand."

I grit my teeth, looking away. _Dammit. Of course he was watching. Stupid Riri! Did you really think that you could get out of the house and away from Reborn without him knowing?_

"Oooh! Shiny rock! Lambo-san wants it!" the little boy jumps up and down, reaching for the rock. "Lambo-san wants! Gimme'! Gimme'!"

"Lambo! That's no way to ask for something!" Tsuna berates.

I hand the rock over to Lambo, who runs in circles around Tsuna, tripping him up once more. "Kariya-san!" Tsuna whines. "You're gonna' spoil him like that! ...Not that he isn't bratty enough already..."

"Are you hungry?" Reborn asks suddenly.

I look back at him with wide eyes that quickly turn suspicious. "Why?"

"There's a sushi restaurant not far from here," Bianchi answers. "Why don't we stop there for lunch? Mama seemed really worn out this morning."

_That's a lie...I saw her bright and cheery this morning. But...maybe she just wants to give Nana-san a break..._

"...Alright."

* * *

><p>"Tsuna, Kariya, you two have been training hard lately, so eat up," Reborn says, smirking.<p>

I take note of the smirk as I sniff at the food suspiciously. There's nothing wrong with it, is there? I mean, I just saw the chef himself make this sushi...but what if he's in cahoots with Reborn? 'Cause...well, frankly, there's something undeniably _wrong_ whenever Reborn smirks like that.

Tsuna just seems surprised, but he digs right in. Seeing that Reborn wouldn't _seriously_ harm Tsuna, and the brunet appears to be fine as he chows down on the food, as do Bianchi and Lambo, I watch them as they eat.

_I can't possibly pay for this..._

"What's wrong, Kariya-san?" Tsuna asks after a few minutes when he realizes that I'm not eating. "Aren't you hungry?"

"You must be," Bianchi says. "Come on, eat something Stella. Here, take these." She pushes a plate of _unagi nigirizushi_ and _otoro_ at me, and puts a pair of chopsticks in my hand. "Eat," she repeats.

Casting another glance around the table at the rest of them, I tentatively pick the _unagi _up with the chopsticks and take a bite.

My eyes widen as my brain shuts down. "This is...this is _good..._"

I finish off the rest of the plates that Bianchi gave me and continue to eat whatever it is she places in front of me.

Reborn's smirk widens. "Like I said, eat as much as you want. You guys deserve this."

"Waa..." Tsuna sighs appreciatively. "Hey, Reborn, is it alright for us to be eating such expensive food?"

"What?" Reborn asks, finishing up his _maki sushi._

Bianchi takes a sip of her tea as Tsuna repeats his question. "I said, is it really okay for us to be eating such expensive—"

"Thanks for the food!" Bianchi calls, standing and sweeping right past us.

I look from Bianchi to Tsuna to Reborn. Leon, now in Reborn's hand, begins to glow, and he transforms, this time into a rope that wraps itself around Bianchi's wrist. "Ciao~" he calls before he's yanked along on his way to freedom.

"_**Eh!" **_Tsuna cries out, surprised.

I watch as Bianchi and Reborn make a run for it, thanking the chef for the meal.

"B-Bye!" Lambo says, stuffing the rest of his _sashimi_ into his mouth. Lambo, too small to catch the man's eye and elicit any response, scampers away to freedom...Or not...

He trips over something, falling on his face with a loud "Gupya!" He sniffles, getting up off the floor. "To...le...rate..." Lambo whimpers.

"Stop it with the 'tolerate'!" Tsuna cries. "You, at least pay for your share!" He points at Lambo.

Lambo rifles through the small pockets of his cow print onesie, much to our surprise. "Here." He pulls out the rock that I'd given to him before.

Since Lambo obviously is unable to pay, and since he is a minor, the responsibility for the no-doubt hefty bill has been pushed onto Tsuna…and _me?_

I look around the restaurant. There aren't many people here today. I could easily escape undetected. It'd be too easy—I could just slip away now.

"K-Kariya-san!" he cries when I stand.

My eyes widen. _Running away without paying for my food?_ _Disgusting—how could I even __think__ such a thing?_ I sit back down.

He looks a bit relieved. "Th-thank—"

"I'm only paying for my own stuff. The rest is _your_ problem, Tsuna," I cut him off before he gets any ideas.

A look of surprise flits across his face, but is quickly replaced by fear. "K-Kariya-san! _Why? I can't pay for all this!"_

"Choose your friends and enemies wisely, Decimo," I growl. "Now own up to the friends you chose, suck it up, _man up_, and pay for the stuff. Or go to jail. Either way, it doesn't really affect me."

_Or does it?_ When did I start _depending _on this ragtag bunch of idiots who pretend (Yamamoto's right), who _play mafia._ They're a naïve group of _children_ who have no idea what's _really_ going on here.

I pull my wallet out of my bag, and another cold shiver runs through me. _Dammit. I forgot._ I have no money left. "_Dammit..._" I hiss.

"I'll..." Tsuna stands. "I'll go find them and bring them back. Just stay here, Kariya-san. I'll be back with them in a bit, alright?"

"O—" I cut my affirmation off.

"Kariya-san...?" Tsuna looks confused.

My gaze hardens. "No."

"What?"

"I said '_no_'," I repeat. "_I'll_ go. You stay. I'll probably find them faster than you could." _And how do I know that you won't leave me here? How do I know that you'll really be back for me?_

I shove my wallet back into my bag, standing.

I'm almost at the door when I hear Tsuna call my name as he runs after me.

"Hey. Where do you think you're going?" the sushi chef's voice has become a dangerous tone as he blocks Tsuna's path. "Who's gonna' pay for all that?"

I take a quick look outside, but they're already long gone. There are a whole bunch of people bustling around—it'd be impossible for me to track them down. I guess all I can do is head back for Tsuna. We'll figure out something...somehow. As I near the restaurant again, I hear Tsuna's pleading voice.

"There's no one picking up at home!" Tsuna cries, placing the phone down.

The man shakes his head solemnly. "Then I'll have to contact the police."

"Gah!"

"Hey! Leave him alone!" I say.

"I'm back, oyaji!" a sprightly voice calls from directly behind me.

'_Oyaji'? __Pops__? _

"Ah, Takeshi."

_Takeshi?_ Yamamoto _Takeshi?_

I turn to see said boy standing behind me, the back of his hand pushing the _noren_ **[1] **out of his face as he asks, "What's going on?"

"Just some kids trying to eat and run," the man answers.

"Hey, it's you Tsuna," he observes. Then his smile brightens as he sees me (_standing right in front of him, may I add_). "Oh, hey there, Kari-chan!"

"Hmm? You know them, Takeshi?"

_Crap. This is his house. That awkward moment when you're caught eating and running from your friend's house._

"Yup!" Yamamoto replies, taking his jacket off.

"Well, then, I'll treat you for what you guys ate earlier—"

"_Really?_" Tsuna asks, incredulous.

"—But do pay for that, alright?" Yamamoto's dad finishes, pointing at Bianchi, Reborn and Lambo who have somehow managed to sneak back in and are once again gorging themselves on the gourmet sushi.

When they feel our eyes on them, they make their escape...once again. This time, though, I can only watch in awe. _Can they _really_ just do that?_

"The total cost will be about 70,000 yen," Yamamoto's dad estimates. **[2]**

"Wow, they're good. They ate all the expensive stuff!" Yamamoto grins.

"What are we gonna' do?" Tsuna pulls at his hair, looking at me.

"Speak for yourself!" I growl. "I'm seriously regretting not killing you before, _Decimo_. If you keep disgracing your title like that, I _will._ Now man up!"

"HIEEE!" All the threat seems to do is throw him into another bout of despair.

"I'll..." It seems to take extra effort to force the words out of my mouth. "I'll...Che! _I'll_ work off whatever I owe!" I scowl at Yamamoto and his dad.

"Kariya has it right," Reborn says, seeming to pop up out of nowhere. I resist the urge to glare. _He's the one that got us into this in the first place!_ "Those who don't work shall not eat."

"Reborn!"

"Why, that's a good idea, sir!" Yamamoto's dad jumps at the suggestion. "If you don't have any money, you'll just have to pay it off by working!"

"Wait!" Tsuna protests, looking at Reborn, "Why don't you just pay?"

"Just think of it as your training. Work hard, you two!" Reborn smirks.

"What the f—" I'm cut off by Tsuna.

"Quit kidding me!" he yells. I allow him to go on, shocked into silence. I've never seen him this riled up before. "It's 70,000 yen! You can't return that just by working a few days!"

"Haha~ I'll help out too! It'll be alright, Tsuna!" Yamamoto assures him.

"Then you guys can start now!" Yamamoto's dad smiles and I can't help but grimace. _So this is where Yamamoto gets it from. I wonder what his mom's like..._

He puts an arm around Tsuna and me each and guides us into the kitchen, with Yamamoto trailing along behind us.

"You guys can wash the dishes—there'll be a _lot_ of them. And I need these crates to be moved to whatever place they're labelled with."

_That's not too bad...ne?_

* * *

><p>'A lot of plates' doesn't do it any justice. It was a fucking <em>mountain<em> of grime and half-eaten food. It's stuff like this that ends up in dumpsters. I hate seeing people waste food—especially such _expensive_ food—while I'm stuck here, working my ass off, cleaning _their_ junk up so that I can eat.

"How did this happen?" Tsuna wails quietly—instead of protesting now, it's more resigned—like he's given up trying to fight it (the malignant force known as Reborn).

"Well," I grimace, balancing another plate on top of a cup, "it's not like it could get any worse, ne?"

"That's right, Tsuna! Be positive!" Yamamoto grins. "See? Look who I brought to help?"

We all turn our heads to the doorway, where Gokudera stands. "I'm not gonna' let you guys look good in front of the Juudaime all the time. So I'm here to help too."

I smack myself in the head with a soapy bowl. _Is _this_ what I get for trying to be a little more optimistic?_

"Now, the only thing that could be worse than this is if—" I cut myself off to prevent any more haphazard suggestions to fate. _The only thing worse is if Sunny-D showed up..._

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gokudera growls at me. "Che! Just tell me what to do, Juudaime!"

_Why the hell's __he__ so chipper? Oh well, some help for Tsuna wouldn't be too bad._

"Umm...eh...well..." Tsuna looks around, trying to find something to keep the Bomber-Boy occupied with.

"You can help us carry these things to the freezer!" Yamamoto suggests, gesturing towards a pile of crates.

"Che! I was asking Juudaime, not _you_, you baseball-idiot!" Gokudera retorts snappily.

"How about you help Kariya-san out here? Um, help with the dishes... (?)" Tsuna says somewhat hesitantly.

"Ah?" It takes a moment for the words to register in Gokudera's head, and when they do, he turns to me with a sour expression on his face. "O-Okay...Juudaime..."

Tsuna sighs as he and Yamamoto begin moving the boxes out of the room.

"Step aside," Gokudera says, and not waiting for a response, edges past me and turns the tap on.

I just observe for a few moments, but after watching him rinse off three plates without so much as even scrubbing at them, or even applying detergent, I intervene, unable to stand by for any longer. "Oi!" I shout angrily. "You're doing it wrong!"

"What do you mean, 'doing it wrong'? This is how you're supposed to wash dishes!" He smirks at me, and a cup falls from his hands. It shatters on the ground in a dramatic array of pale porcelain.

"You idiot!" I cry. "You just—you—Argh! Are you this clumsy with your fucking dynamite, too?"

He scowls at me. "Of course not, stupid woman!" He turns back to the sink.

"Fine! You wash them, and I'll dry them," I offer, trying to be civil—I need to pay off this debt as quickly as I can (especially with this added baggage that is Gokudera Hayato).

"Fine." And he wants to help his precious Juudaime in any way that he can. So I guess it all works out in the—

"Here." He tosses a plate at me. Still wet, it slips out of my hands and joins the plate on the floor, where it, too, shatters.

"You fucking idiot!" I yell. "So much for helping me or Tsuna, hunh? You're just adding more to his problems!"

"What was that?" he growls, glaring at me.

I glare back at him. "You heard me."

"Eh? What's going on in here?" Yamamoto calls as he and Tsuna enter the room carrying another armful each of various boxes.

"This _idiot_," I shove his shoulder, half-turning away from him, "broke all of these."

"These are my dad's favourites..." Yamamoto places the box down, gathering the broken pieces. "They're worth probably about 30,000 yen."

"Geh!" I choke on my own spit. "W-what?"

"But since Gokudera came here to help Tsuna, the 30,000 yen will be added to Tsuna's debt," Reborn decrees. And here, Reborn's word is law. And even though I'm a bit disgruntled at the injustice of it all, I'm not about to argue for more money to be added to my _own_ debt. I'm not _quite_ that altruistic.

Tsuna looks beyond hopeless now, just completely desolate. "Gokudera-kun...just...please, don't do anything..."

"A-ah..." Gokudera retreats to sulk somewhere.

I can't help but send a silent curse at his back. I wrinkle my nose, turning to Yamamoto as he places a box on the top shelf of the pantry. "Meh...well, if Tsuna's debt is now 100,000 yen...how much is mine, exactly?" I ask uncertainly.

"Well...let's see. What did you eat?" Yamamoto asks as he takes a plate from my hands and begins to dry it with a rag.

"Um..." I wrack my brains as I lather up a cup. "There was a _lot_ of unagi. And um...what's it called? Um...O...Otoro...?"

"Oh, otoro!"

"Yeah. I didn't really like it...so I didn't eat too much of it..."

"What?" Yamamoto looks like I just told him that Elmo's voice actor is an old black man; his expression practically screams _heretic._ **[3] **"Otoro is the _best!_"

"Meh..." I shrug my shoulders. "It's alright, I guess. The unagi is still the best, by far."

"What else did you have?"

"Uh...I ate a lot of salmon too... I don't think I ate too much, since I was eating the rice that Bianchi and Lambo were leaving behind (_wasting_)."

"And from the sound of it, you didn't eat much of the more expensive stuff. You know, Oyaji praised them for being able to pick out the expensive ingredients. Well, you're the opposite! You chose the cheaper ones!"

"Is that a compliment? What? Am I cheap? ...Well, I'm obviously not a gourmet...I'll eat anything," I think aloud. "But, I guess, in the end...it's saved me a bit of money...?" I finish on a hopeful note.

"Well, that should be...about...15,000 yen." **[4]**

"...Oh." I laugh. "I guess it did save me a lot!" _I can work this off in a few days, ne?_

Yamamoto laughs with me, and then he turns, as if suddenly remembering something. "Oh, yeah. Tsuna, we need someone to take orders from customers. My dad said that he'd be willing to cut down part of your debt if you do it," Yamamoto announces from the doorway.

Tsuna looks back at me, and I roll my eyes. _What...does he need my approval for it or something? He's totally gonna' go for the offer anyway—who could turn that down? __Why__ would he turn that down? Just go already, dammit._

He just needs another push. "I can manage back here by myself. Wouldn't it be better if you both went out there?" _Besides, some peace and quiet would be a bonus as well._

"Are you sure, Ka—"

"Come on! Let's go, Tsuna!" Yamamoto pulls Tsuna away.

I continue to wash the dishes that Yamamoto brings to me—it never seems to end. For every dish I wash, there are ten more plates, six more cups, and various amounts of mismatched chopsticks.

The flow of customers seems to die down around the late afternoon. That's also when I start feeling hungry—and being around all this food isn't really helping either. My stomach growls and I absentmindedly pause in my work to give it a rough pat and a growl in return. "Shush tummy."

"Che. Is food all you can think about?"

I turn to see Bomber-Boy. "Hypocrite!" I cry, spinning around to point an accusing finger in his direction.

"What?" he says, knowing all too well just exactly what I mean; despite that, he continues to munch on the tuna.

When he goes to cut some more meat off of the fish, I reach over and _smother _the pieces still on his plate with ample amounts of _wasabi. _I'm a bit surprised that Reborn watches on in silence as he eats. Nevertheless, I carry on with my bit of fun.

Gokudera turns back around with more tuna on his plate, which he shares with Reborn. I wait in anticipation as he moves the freshly cut meat onto his original plate. He picks up a wasabi coated piece of tuna and eats the entire thing in one bite.

It takes a moment for him to realize what the burning sensation in his mouth is. Then he places the plate down roughly as his eyes search for some water.

"You know, they say that eating raw fish helps with spicy stuff—better than water even!" I say as he begins to flail.

He's past arguing with me and follows my suggestion compliantly. He takes yet another wasabi covered piece of tuna and eats it, only for his eyes to start watering. He squeezes his eyes shut and swipes blindly at me. "Bitch! You covered them all in—Gah! Get me—water! Water!"

I just point and laugh as he spasms.

Reborn watches on with grim amusement(?) and finishes off the last of his tuna.

"HIEEE! Don't just eat food without permission!" Tsuna shrieks as he enters the room again. Bomber-Boy gulps down cup after cup of tap water, glaring daggers at me all the while.

"What's going on back here?" Yamamoto's dad has finally decided to investigate for himself. His eyes widen when he sees the half-eaten tuna sitting beside us. "That tuna was meant to be delivered to a party of 100 people tonight! Now there's no way that I can make that delivery!"

I look back at the desecrated Tunafish. _Crap._

"I'll have to add 200,000 to your debt!"

"WHAT?" Tsuna exclaims. "I have to pay for that too?"

I just stand, at a loss for words. Even though it's not me, I still feel somewhat guilty—I could've stopped him.

"I'll take responsibility for my younger brother," Bianchi says from the doorway. _Why didn't you say so sooner...?_

"A-Aneki! I'm sorry Juudaime! I'm going home now!" Gokudera leaps from his seat and runs from the room while clutching his stomach. _Why exactly does he get these random stomach-aches when he sees his sister?_

If he was panicking before, Tsuna's positively the most stressed out kid on the face of the Earth at this moment.

"Don't give up so fast," Bianchi chides in her velvet voice. "Just think about what we can do with what's left of the tuna."

"That's true..." I chime in.

But her wonderful suggestion is met with much objection from Tsuna. "NO!" he shouts immediately. "No! You can't! Please Bianchi! You can't do your Poison Cooking! Don't create any _more_ trouble!"

"That's rude. Bianchi's cooking can't be _that_ bad, Tsuna," I cut in. "And frankly, I don't think it can get any worse than this. Maybe you should just accept her help."

Bianchi chuckles. "Don't worry. After living close to my beloved Reborn...I think I've changed." She cuts a few thin slices off of the poor tuna, and within a few moments, produces a few rolls of sushi. "Here." She offers the plate to them.

"It looks good," Yamamoto's dad praises.

"And there's no weird smoke coming out!" Tsuna exclaims. I glare at him. _Why does he insist on insulting Bianchi's cooking—I mean, __look__ at it! It looks really good. Just what exactly is he insinuating?_

"Hmm..." Yamamoto's dad picks one of them up, examining it for a moment before taking a bite despite Tsuna's protests.

I frown. _There's something wrong. Even if Tsuna's really stressed...he wouldn't be freaking out this much unless there was something __really__ wrong._

But I shake off the suspicions when I see Yamamoto Senior's jaw drop. "This is too good! Even the customers who ordered the delivery would be satisfied with this!"

"Eh?" Tsuna and Yamamoto each pick up a piece, trying it out tentatively.

"Wow! It really is good!"

"They're not Poison Cooking anymore!"

"I'm touched by the taste," Yamamoto's dad says. "If she can make this for a hundred people, then I will forget your debt."

"EH? Are you serious?" Tsuna asks incredulously.

"Do it for them," Reborn says. Bianchi just nods with a small smile on her face.

"THANK YOU!" Tsuna's now crying tears of joy.

But...something still doesn't seem right to me. _Wasn't the point of this to get us to work? It hasn't been too bad so far. That means that Reborn must be up to something. And why does Tsuna keep calling Bianchi's food 'Poison Cooking'? It seriously can't be __that__ bad...ne?_

* * *

><p>A couple of hours, a couple hundred basins of water, dishes, detergent and hard labour later, I'm still washing dishes—which I've discovered that I actually enjoy doing—and Bianchi has finished mass-producing the sushi at their request.<p>

"We're done!"

"Thanks for your work," Yamamoto's dad addresses Bianchi.

"Now we just need to deliver it."

"My debt's gone now!" Tsuna cheers, and then doubles over, clutching his stomach much like Gokudera had done just hours ago.

"Tsuna!" Yamamoto calls before he and his father, too, collapse on the floor.

My gaze shifts from person to person, taking in their pained expressions, their surprised expressions, and once again, Reborn's smirk. "Bianchi. It looks like you've developed a new skill. The poison is delayed by three hours."

"_Poison?_" I cry. "What the fuck is going on!"

* * *

><p>Surprisingly, it's Tsuna that recovers first. After reassuring me that they wouldn't <em>die<em>, Reborn and Bianchi propped Tsuna up in a chair, told me to keep an eye on him, and carted Yamamoto and his dad off. Yamamoto and his dad are still nowhere to be seen.

Luckily, while the sushi master is out, no new customers have arrived, and they all seem to be winding down, and all I have to do is go out and retrieve the dirty dishes by myself, cart them back and wash them.

So for now, it's just Tsuna and me down in the kitchen, where I'm still washing dishes like a slave-maid-thing.

"Urgh...My stomach..." he groans, sitting up in his seat.

"Oh, you're alive."

"Kariya-san?"

"Drink this," I order, handing him a cup. "Be careful," I say, retracting my hand and frowning when he reaches out a little too quickly for it, "it's hot."

"Thank you," he croaks, accepting the drink. "What is it?"

"Just drink it already," I say impatiently, placing the box of lemon honey teabags back onto the shelf where I'd found them.

Tsuna places the cup down on the table, and I take it from him, washing that, too. "So," I begin to speak when I see the weak smile on his face (that means he's well enough, ne?), "what's with this 'Poison Cooking'?"

He blanches. "Eh, um. Well, Bianchi...you see...Whatever she cooks becomes this thing called 'Poison Cooking'. The results could be anywhere from mild food poisoning to death."

I raise an eyebrow. "Really." I'm skeptical, but after what I just witnessed, and seeing the fear on Gokudera's face (going from the fact that they're siblings, I guess that makes sense—he must've been eating stuff like that since he was little), I don't think that Tsuna's lying. I breathe a sigh, and roll the chopsticks between my hands under the tap to wash them.

"Here, I'll help you," Tsuna offers.

"No!" I snap. "Sit _down_ and _stay_ there. You still need to recover from this...'Poison Cooking'. And besides, I'll work off my _own_ debt, just like you still have to work off your own. It's...what? 300,000 yen now?"

"HIEEE!" Tsuna bursts into frustrated tears and he lets his head hit the table with a despaired cry.

* * *

><p>"Are you okay now?" I ask hesitantly, flicking a piece of seaweed off of a chopstick with a disgruntled wrinkling of my nose. <em>Some of these customers are just...<em>_disgusting__._

"Yup, I'm great," Yamamoto answers. There's still a light sheen of sweat and a greenish pallor to his skin, but other than that, he seems to be alright. _He'll live._

"How's your dad?"

"He'll...be fine," he assures. "That party delivery was cancelled anyway (what good luck)!"

"Then you guys can go rest up now, ne?" I say, placing another plate on the drying rack.

"Aah. We're almost done here, so you can too. You guys can head back now," Yamamoto says gently. "It's alright. You can always come back tomorrow, anyway, right?"

"You go," I say to Tsuna, determined to keep at it. "I'm gonna'...I'm gonna' keep working."

They shoot me a look as they leave the room. I hear some mutterings and a reassurance from Yamamoto that he'd "be back to check on her" and for Tsuna "not to worry".

It should be about closing time now—as the incoming plates have slowed to a trickle. I dry the last batch, and stifle a yawn. I'm growing just the slightest bit weary—I don't think I've done this much manual labour for a long while.

I look around for a suitable place to take a break. _I'll just go put my head down for a bit...Yeah..._

* * *

><p>"Eh?" Yamamoto pauses, a hand on the front door. "Good evening! We're just closing up now." He gives the young woman a bright smile.<p>

Her long twin pigtails swing and her shining purple eyes glitter as she returns the smile. "Good evening. I'm here for Asunake Kariya."

"Kari-chan?" Yamamoto, as thick-headed and genial as he is, starts to sense something disconcerting about this woman.

"Yes. Is she still here?" Her eyes light up like little stars and a small—_predatory_—smile creeps onto her face.

"Why? Are you her mother?" he asks, still with his easy smile. But behind that expression, his mind is already moving. It all depends on the woman's next answer.

"Kshesese~" she giggles, covering her mouth in a shy manner (though for some reason he knows that she's not at all shy) with a fluttering black sleeve, and a chill travels down the boy's spine. "Do I really look that old?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Yamamoto laughs, trying to keep his nervousness out of it. _She avoided the question! She can't be her mother anyway, because Kari-chan said that her mother had died...I just wanted to see if she would lie or not._

"So _is_ she here or not?" Her voice acquires an edge that makes him defensive.

_I have a bad feeling about her. I don't know who she is or what her intentions are. I don't know what to do... But I _do_ know that I can't let her get Kari-chan..._

_So if I say that she's here, that could put her in danger. If I say that she's not...well, I'll take my chances._

"I'm afraid you just missed her," he replies.

She laughs again, an unsettling sound, then she turns and walks away, long, black hair swishing behind her. Under the lamplight, its dark green sheen is visible. "You shouldn't lie, Yamamoto Takeshi...especially not for _her_. She's not worth it."

Yamamoto watches, shocked, until he snaps out of it. "Hey! Wait!"

He's surprised when she actually stops, at the edge of the circle of lamplight, half-in and half-out of the shadows.

He continues on quickly, as if she could disappear at any moment. "Who are you?"

She humours him with an answer. "We probably won't meet again—so don't count on it. But some call me Lee; Lena Lee. And I'm warning you; you shouldn't associate yourself with someone like Asunake Kariya. She only brings misfortune to all those around her. People are still after her—and those around her...tend to get _hurt._"

"Thank you for the advice, Lee-san," Yamamoto's smile and voice grow dangerous, "but I think you should get going now. It's not safe out at night, and there have been reports of some sort of gang activity lately, especially in the Kokuyo region. Be careful out there, and I wish you a goodnight."

He shuts the door, making sure to lock it.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Yamamoto Takeshi...And if you tell anyone about this...I can't guarantee your safety...or little Kariya's..."

He waits a moment before peering out of the window to make sure that she's really gone. Leaning against the door, he lets his racing heartbeat slow down. Yamamoto then heads into the back—into the kitchen—to check on Kari-chan; only to find her missing.

"K-Kari...chan...?" he calls, fear quickly welling up. He walks around the empty kitchen, studying the now-empty sink and the dry dishes stacked neatly on the counter, the half-eaten tuna—but no Kari-chan. He picks up her laptop bag as well as her thin jacket.

A shuffling sound alerts him, and he spins around, bag and jacket in hand. "Kari-chan!" he calls. But his smile falters when he notices her blank expression. "K-Kari-chan?" He approaches her carefully. Her eyes are glazed over, and she regards him with a dazed, out-of-focus gaze.

"Um...are you okay, Kari-chan?" he asks, waving his hand slowly in front of her face. "Oh..._Oh..._"

_She's sleepwalking..._

"Um...eh." He scratches his head awkwardly. "I have no idea what to do with a sleepwalker... Um. They say that you're not supposed to wake them up, right? Okay..." He slings her bag across his shoulders and holds her jacket out to her.

She doesn't take it, only shuffles around the room, away from him. "H-Hey, Kari-chan!" He sighs, then trots after her.

She comes to a stop by the door, and turns back to him, still giving him the same unnerving blank look.

"Um..." Yamamoto holds her jacket up again, and still, she doesn't take it. "Alright, then..." He lifts her arm gently, and it's almost like deadweight. He manipulates it so her arm goes through the sleeve, and does the same for the other before grinning at her unresponsive form. He zips the zipper up before opening the door.

This time, however, she doesn't move. Her eyes seem to focus a little more, and she shrinks backwards a little (a little _understandably_, in Yamamoto's opinion).

So he holds his hand out to her, and when she doesn't place her hand in his, he takes her hand in his own, and leads her out.

"Haha~ isn't this fun, Kari-chan?"

"..."

"Oh, sorry, I forgot...you're asleep."

"..."

"What do you say to a sleepwalker? Good night? Good morning?"

"..."

"...Oh, I know! ...Sweet dreams, Kari-chan..."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**[1]** A 'noren' is a traditional Japanese piece of cloth hung the entryway of shops to signify that they are open for business. They are taken down at the end of the working day.

**[2]** 70,000 yen is a bit more than $900 (in Canadian as well as American. Not sure about any other currencies though).

**[3]** Yes, it's true. Sesame Street's Elmo is puppeteered by Kevin Clash, who, indeed, is a black man in his 50's. No racism intended. (_"Down, Kariya! DOWN."_)

**[4]** 15,000 yen is about $200 in Canadian as well as American dollars. Once again, I'm not sure about other currencies.

Little Yamamoto is wrong about the dreaming part—when people sleepwalk, they're not actually dreaming.

And sleepwalkers are pretty interesting. I myself am one, and this pretty much happens—in the middle of the night, I walk into my parents' room, and apparently I just stand there until someone leads me back to my room. My little nuclear family of four consists of a sleepwalker, a sleep-talker and two snorers. Sweet dreams... (?)

And it might be a while until Chapter 16 is posted. The strange thing is, I have 17 and 18 mostly written, but only snippets of 16... ^_^" Stay with me, though, dear readers! Thanks for all the support!

And R.I.P. Jack Layton. You truly were a good man.


	16. Little Big Kids and Freaks of Nature

**Chapter 16**

**Little Big Kids and Freaks of Nature**

* * *

><p><strong>Little Big Kids<strong>_:_ _Kids who (are forced by circumstances to) grow up too fast to enjoy the blissful ignorance of childhood, or, conversely, children who refuse to grow up._

* * *

><p><strong>Freaks of Nature: <strong>_An anomaly, one who is different in an odd or disturbing way; _monster_._

* * *

><p>I wake to the sight of my room. The mess is gone—everything's been cleaned and tucked away neatly. Confused, I sit there for a few more moments, trying to sort out my thoughts.<p>

"How did I get back here?"

"Yamamoto brought you back last night. Since it was really late, he stayed over, too," Reborn answers, kicking me. "Everyone has already left. You'd better get up now."

I don't even bother reacting to his sudden, and seemingly random, appearance. I just nod in acknowledgement of Reborn's words.

"Wait, _what?_ Yamamoto?" I ask, just realizing what Reborn had actually said, and when put together, what those words actually mean.

"He seemed anxious. I don't think he slept a wink the entire night."

"Why's that?" I press. And when Reborn offers no answer—not even his all-knowing smirk—I feel worry rising up within me. "Well, that's really reassuring. The one guy that's always smiling stops smiling—and he's _anxious _to boot. And the omniscient hitman has no idea what's going on. Great."

I sigh. _Might as well get up, ne?_

It's the last day of our summer break—school starts again tomorrow—and I'm looking forward to it. Really.

"Ara? Kariya-chan! Come here, come here," Nana-san calls as she sees me slinking down the stairs. She motions to me, and hesitantly, I approach her.

She pulls out a small plastic bag. "I was shopping yesterday, and I saw these!"

"What are those?"

"Sit down, sit down!" she says excitedly, motioning for me to sit down at the kitchen table. She even pulls the chair out for me. _Wow...someone's eager._

She places a bag down on the table, and pulls something bright orange and feathery out of the bag. She puts a small hand mirror down beside it.

I study the objects carefully, but stiffen as I feel her fingers combing themselves through my hair. It's a very nice feeling, lulling, comforting. I frown at the thick concoction of emotions and memories that this simple sensation unearths.

Then, she pulls out a fine-tooth comb and begins to part my hair into neat sections.

"Umm, what are you doing?" I ask uncomfortably.

Nana-san begins chattering away. "Like I said, I was shopping yesterday, and I found these hair clips that I think would look amazing on you, so I bought them. I want to try them out now! I didn't know what colour you'd like, so I bought the orange ones—I thought it'd go nicely with your skin colour and your eyes."

I sit there, unsure of what to do or how to respond. "Aah. Um."

"And plus," she continues, "I've always wanted a daughter; someone for me to tie their hair in pretty braids, to dress up and to talk to." She laughs lightly, and I try not to squirm at her words.

"My husband and I used to dress Tsu-kun up when he was younger. He was an adorable kid!" she tells me, smoothing my hair down. "There! That should be good!"

The phone rings, and when Nana-san excuses herself to go answer it, I tentatively reach for the mirror that she had placed on the table.

The girl on the other side of the glass blinks sleepily at me, and reaches up to her head, feeling the smooth braids and untameable little strands that pop out of the uniform lines. Little tufts of orange flowers bring out the brown tints of her hair and eyes, and her mouth curls up in a small smile.

"Good morning, Kariya-san."

I quickly throw the mirror into the plastic bag, wiping the stupid grin off of my face. "G-Good morning."

He blinks, rubbing his eyes. "Um. Those flowers look nice."

"Aah. Uh, thanks," I answer, then change the subject abruptly, "but didn't Reborn say that you guys had all left?"

"Reborn? What? We're all—"

"_Sawada Tsunayoshi!_" Nana-san's voice drifts into the room; she sounds annoyed at something.

He seems to sense this too. "I—I'm coming..."

"Tsunayoshi..." I look at him thoughtfully. "Everyone calls you 'Tsuna' for short. I guess...I'll call you Yoshi."

"Umm...sure, Kariya-san."

"And in return, _you_ have to drop the honorific. I hate it," I say simply, fidgeting with the flowers in my hair.

"O-okay..."

"Say it."

"Ka-"

"SAWADA TSUNAYOSHI!" Nana-san storms into the room. "I _said_ come here! What's this I hear about eating and running from a restaurant?"

"HIIEEE!" Tsuna cries, leaping about a foot into the air at his mother's sudden burst of anger. She stands at the doorway, arms crossed, expression furious. "I—I—I," he stammers, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Well? Explain yourself, young man!"

"Um, Nana-san..." I intervene. "I really like these hairclips. I, uh...Thank you."

That seems to derail her train of thought. "You're welcome Kariya-chan! They really suit you! If I see any more on my way to—" She pauses for a moment, then exclaims, "Oh, I'm sorry! I forgot! I have to meet Kimura-san at her office today! Oh, and I have to cash in this cheque as well as take I-Pin-chan for a check-up! But what about the Lambo? What about," Her eyes narrow as she frowns at Tsuna, "_you_?"

"Don't worry Mama. Kariya can babysit for you," Reborn volunteers (read: voluntells) me for the job, "and I'll deal with Tsuna."

"Really?" Nana-san looks at me with wide, somewhat pleading, eyes. "That would be great! It means so much to me, Kariya-chan! Thank you so much!"

With nothing else I can do, I resign myself to bowing my head, which Nana-san takes to be a nod of assent. I sigh.

Tsuna resigns himself to his fate. He, too, sighs.

* * *

><p>And so begins the last day of my Vongola summer. This day marks the end of our carefree time.<p>

_Because all children have to grow up someday...ne?_

* * *

><p>Then, I'm left alone in the kitchen; Nana-san and I-Pin leave soon after, and Tsuna mysteriously disappears with Reborn.<p>

I find breakfast already on the table for me—omurice and a cup of milk. I smile as I see that Nana-san has drawn a smiley face and a heart on the omurice with ketchup. Then I glance over my shoulder. _No one saw that, ne?_

After ascertaining the fact that, yes, I am indeed alone, I sit down and dig in. I wrinkle my nose when I find that Nana-san has snuck pieces of broccoli, slices of carrots and little green peas into the fried rice within the omelette. _I should've known as much._

"Gyahaha! The great Lambo-san is here! Oi, Baa-san! Play with Lambo!"

"Not now," I reply lazily. "I'm eating."

"Play with me _now!_"

"No. Now leave me alone and let me eat. I'll play with you later."

"Hmph! Baa-san's boring! I'm gonna' try what Ahoudera told me—it sounds fun!"

Before I can stop him, he grabs my chopstick...and sticks it into an electrical socket. He yelps, and spasms, sparks flying off of him.

"Lambo!" I cry, standing.

But, amazingly, he disengages, pulling the chopstick out and tossing it out into the yard. He leaps onto a chair, bawling his eyes out. "Bakadera lied! Bakadera lied!"

"He...He's _alright_...!" I say to myself, watching the child roll around on the chair, crying. "And what the hell did Gokudera tell him to do?"

Lambo pulls the bazooka—the Ten Year Bazooka—from his hair and I watch, too dumbfounded by his earlier electrocution to do anything. The room erupts into pink smoke, and I jolt back in my seat, surprised when I see a silhouette moves in the pink miasma.

He takes in the sight of the kitchen as the smoke clears. He blinks, a bit confused. I stare at the seated male who's holding a plunger of some sort. His thick black hair is a bit dishevelled, and his cow-print button down is covered with bits of dirt and grime.

Then I realize that other than the two of us, the kitchen is now empty.

"Hey!" I scream at him, and he leaps back, dropping the plunger and knocking the chair over, startled. "Who are you?" I yell. "Who are you, and what the hell did you do to Lambo?"

"Please don't hurt me!" he cries, raising his arms and fumbling around for the plunger which he holds up in front of him, cringing away from me. "Baa-san, please don't! Gah! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Nee-sama! I'm sorry! I won't do it again!"

"Baa...san...?" I look closely at him, trying to discern the man behind the features of his face.

He lowers his arms slowly. "Do you...recognize me, Nee-sama...? Oh, that's good. I thought that you were going to kill—"

"_**I'm gonna' **__**kill**__** you if you don't tell me where Lambo is **__**right**__** NOW!**_"

"Wait! Nee-sama!" he squeals before dropping the plunger again. "Why don't you recognize me? Why don't you _remember_ me?"

"'_Remember'_? This is the first time I've ever seen you!"

"It's me! From the future!"

I pause, hand hovering over the kitchen knives. He gulps as he sees where the situation might be headed, and he repeats, "I'm from the future!"

_So it's true..._ I frown, shaking away the intrusive thoughts. _Where are these thoughts coming from anyway? How do I know, but __not__ know, all of these random things?_

"So what happens in the..._future_?" I ask.

"Aah...um..." He quails a bit under my intense scrutiny, sitting down suddenly. "Yare, yare..." He scratches his head. "Gokudera-shi told me that I shouldn't say too much about the future..."

"Talk!" I order, giving him my best glare. _Gokudera?_

He yelps and squirms uncomfortably in his seat.

"Tell me about the future," I repeat, crossing my arms.

"Well...It...A lot happens...you have to be more specific than that..." he mumbles, but when he looks up and sees me stalk over to him, he quickly adds, "Whaddayouwannaknow? I'll tell you! I'll tell you!"

"That's better..." I lean back, pacing around with my hands clasped behind my back to give off the right effect. _I may be an extortionist yet!_ "Now...tell me about _him._ Do I defeat him? Do I defeat him and become the Vongola Decimo?"

"Defeat...w-who?" he stammers.

"You know," I whisper harshly, remembering Reborn's taunts from a few nights ago, and pull him forward by his unbuttoned cow-print collar, "_him. _ The leader of the V—"

_POOF._

The dark-haired boy is gone, and I'm left holding Lambo. My attention shifts onto the little boy, momentarily forgetting the fact that the man I was just interrogating has just disappeared. "Oi! You! Where have you been? And where the hell did you get the lollipop?"

"Baa-san's a lot nicer in the future," is his reply. He seems to be alright now. _But, he was just electrocuted!_

Something seems to connect in my brain, and I stare at the little boy.

Reborn appears on the kitchen table. "That was—"

"—Lambo, ten years in the future," I finish, then add, "Well, he used the Ten Year Bazooka just now, ne? So I'm just assuming."

Reborn frowns slightly. "How did you know that?"

"I...I don't know. I feel like I've met him before, or something. But...I—I don't know...I just knew that that was what the bazooka did, and since I saw him use it, I just figured out right now that that was probably him, ne?"

"Aah," he agrees hesitantly, but his tone is still skeptical. "You did meet adult Lambo; last night, apparently. But you were sleepwalking, so you should have no recollection of the incident."

I shrug. "Maybe I'm some freak of nature."

"Hmm." Reborn smirks, duly covering up his sure-to-be-confused expression. "Of course you are. Now get going. Take Lambo outside with you so you don't disturb us."

From the sounds of it, Tsuna's gonna' get it from Reborn. I really don't envy the Decimo right now.

* * *

><p>"Alright, now that Kariya's gone, so let's begin," Reborn instructs.<p>

"Reborn! Why're we all crowded in my room? And why did we lie to Kariya-san about everybody leaving already?" Tsuna flails his arms as Gokudera and Yamamoto argue in the corner of the room. Bianchi occupies his chair with Reborn in her arms while Fuuta sits cross-legged on the floor.

The hitman conveniently ignores Tsuna, motioning to Fuuta. "Please, show us any and all relevant rankings concerning Asunake Kariya."

Yamamoto and Gokudera cease their one-sided argument and turn their attention onto the little boy.

"More of these? Reborn!" Tsuna continues to oppose him.

"It's okay, Tsuna-nii," Fuuta reassures him. "You remember what it is, right? I can just contact the Ranking Planet, and I'll be able to get extremely accurate rankings on just about anything—unless it's raining." He looks sharply out the window, and all heads quickly turn to peer outside. "—But it's not!" He smiles. "So, it should be okay. And besides, I've been keeping an eye on Kari-nee, so I've already done a couple of rankings."

He pulls out a tome with a red leather cover, laying it on the carpeted ground before opening it heavily, revealing a great many thin pages covered with names, names, and more names, all accompanied with numbers and little notes scrawled in the margins. Some of it is written in ink, but the majority is in pencil or pen; there are even parts where multi-coloured crayons and markers were used. One list even looks suspiciously like it was written in blood.

"Alright," he says, flipping it to a certain page. "This is one list that I've been following and updating regularly." And true to his words, there are many names and numbers crossed off, lots of arrows drawn, and eraser smudges on the page.

He tilts the book up so that they can all see.

"'Most wanted fugitives in the Mafia'?" Gokudera reads aloud.

They scan through the names, looking for the one piece of information they need.

"There," Yamamoto's the first to spot it, "number 491."

Fuuta nods, showing them another scrap of paper. "Kari-nee used to be number 37."

"The list is out of 7,928 Mafiosi," Bianchi notes.

"Most of the names listed are bosses or people caught up in messy affairs," Reborn observes.

"Haha~ Tsuna! Your name's on here, too!"

"What?"

"You're number 32!" Yamamoto laughs.

"But both Kariya and Tsuna's rankings are only to be expected. Stop looking so surprised, Baka-Tsuna," Reborn reprimands.

"But, it's good to know that there's not as many people after her now, right, Juudaime?" Gokudera attempts to cheer him up.

"A-ah."

"Next."

"Umm..." Fuuta flips through the pages, coming to rest at a bookmarked page. "It's this one: 'Mafiosi who run away from their troubles the most'."

He runs his finger down the page to rest on a certain name. "Number 17,003 out of 56,139 Mafiosi, Kari-nee."

"She said that she was running away from the Vongola didn't she?" Tsuna says. "But she doesn't have to run anymore, right?"

When Reborn doesn't answer, Tsuna repeats his question in a more panicked tone. "Right?"

"She was also about to name some other Famiglia back then," Gokudera adds. "But don't worry, Juudaime! Remember the last ranking? Not as many people are after her now—so chances are, only some people still want her dead!" he says cheerily.

"That's _why_ I'm worried!" Tsuna cries.

"Hmm. Show us the next one, Fuuta," Reborn orders.

"And this is one that I've been updating every so often," Fuuta says, holding the page up, "because it keeps changing."

"'Most arrogant Mafiosi'," Reborn reads.

Fuuta points to the top of the list. "Kari-nee used to be up here, number 6, just below Superbi Squalo, who's now number five."

"Who—?" Gokudera begins.

"It doesn't really matter right now," Reborn cuts him off.

"But, she's been steadily dropping since I met her—she's now 79,775 out of 213,928."

Yamamoto whistles, though it's apparent that he doesn't fully understand what's going on.

"While looking through my rankings yesterday, I noticed something really—"

Gokudera cuts Fuuta off. "Hey, can you do a ranking now? Which Mafioso is the most loyal to his boss?"

"I—um—"

"That'd be interesting to see," Yamamoto agrees.

So, Fuuta sighs and pulls the book closer to him. "Fine. Just one."

His eyes unfocus, and the objects around him begin to float. Gokudera spins around in mid-air to read what Fuuta writes down on the piece of paper, only to have Yamamoto, who's clearly enjoying himself in the new zero-gravity room, float in front of him, obscuring his vision.

"Oi! Baseball-idiot! Get out of my way!"

"Aww, but—"

And they all come crashing down in a heap of bodies and tangles of flailing limbs, yelps and strings of curses.

"Gokudera-nii, you're 7th on the list," Fuuta shows him the page.

Gokudera pumps his fist. "Yes! As Juudaime's right hand man, of course I'd be near the top!"

"Haha~ There's six people ahead of Gokudera," Yamamoto says.

"Che!" Gokudera puffs up angrily. "I'll be at the top soon enough! You'll see, baseball idiot! Right, Juudaime?"

But Tsuna's too busy scanning the sheet to reply. "That Superbi Squalo was mentioned again—he's number 4."

"Stella," Bianchi points out, "is number 112,834 out of 113,930 Mafiosi."

"Mmm." Fuuta's brow scrunches.

"Why's she at the bottom of the list?" Yamamoto asks.

"Che! How dare she be disloyal to Juudaime!"

"Gokudera-kun... The list is for loyalty...that doesn't necessarily mean that she's _disloyal._" Tsuna attempts to calm him.

"Fuuta," Reborn's voice cuts through the din, "can you do one more ranking?"

"Um, but—Okay," he consents.

"Give me a list of Mafiosi who are most loyal to their friends."

The little sandy-haired boy nods, and once again, everyone begins to levitate, floating around and bouncing off of everything else.

This time, though, Gokudera stays far away from Yamamoto, opting to float above the bed, holding onto it tightly. It seemed like a good idea until gravity returns and he lands on top of his beloved Juudaime.

"HIIEEE!"

"I'm so sorry, Juudaime! I'm so sorry!" he apologizes profusely.

"Alright! It's alright! Just get off of me!"

He scrambles off the bed, shooting a glare at a laughing Yamamoto.

"Hmm...Stella's pretty high on this one," Bianchi observes, passing the sheet onto Yamamoto.

Reborn watches on, smirking. "Naturally."

"Wow, Kari-chan's 9th on this list. Hey! Tsuna! You're on this list, too!"

Gokudera snatches the page from Yamamoto's hand. "Juudaime! You're 10th on the list!" he announces. Then his face darkens. "What the hell? Both Cavallone and that idiot woman scored higher than you? This isn't possible!"

"Haha~ That's okay, right, Gokudera? These things change don't they? And isn't it a good thing that Kari-chan's loyal to her friends—to us?"

"Of course not!" Gokudera snaps, playing Devil's advocate—he can't lose to the baseball idiot in front of Juudaime! "Juudaime should be number one on this list!"

"Gokudera-kun! Yamamoto!"

"Calm down, Gokudera."

"Well, maybe you should—"

"Everybody!" Fuuta cries suddenly, and they turn to him with varying degrees of alarm on their faces. The little boy's hands are balled up into fists and his thin frame shakes. "Please! Listen to me."

He holds up a piece of paper, one edge jagged—obviously torn from the book. "I...Like I said. Yesterday, I was organizing some of the rankings, and I found Kari-nee's name. It's...I...I never expected to find her name on such a list, but it's also her position on the list that worries me."

"Well?" Gokudera growls.

"She's," Fuuta manages with great difficulty, handing the sheet to the silver-haired bomber, "the very last name on this list."

The paper slips from his hands as he takes a seat, brow creasing.

'_Mafiosi that are angriest about being test subjects in the past.'_

* * *

><p>"Hey, hey, Lambo! Slow down!" I call, pushing past people as I try and keep the elusive cowprint within sight as it weaves in and out of the crowd, slipping through their legs. "Oi! Lambo! Wait up! OI!"<p>

I'm surprised that he's bounced back so quickly. But I guess that's what makes him Lambo—he's tough...as well as annoying (the worst combination ever).

When he turns onto a nearly empty street, and I get a clear shot at him, that's when I pounce. "Gotcha!"

"I'm just going over there, Baa-san! Let go!" He squirms out of my grasp and runs off into the toy store.

I sigh. "Alright, then. I'll be out here." I eye the screaming bunches of other children as they run around the store—definitely not the place I want to be right now.

I just want (need) to think over what Reborn said. I'm not supposed to know what the Ten Year Bazooka does, nor am I supposed to remember seeing fifteen-year-old Lambo. And yet...I _do._ I know that the Ten Year Bazooka allows the user to switch places with their ten-years-later self for five minutes, and I recognize fifteen-year-old Lambo's face clearly.

_But why is that? How the hell do I know that? Who told me that? Did I overhear it somewhere? Yes, that's it—I overheard it...but from __who__?_

"Hey, hey, Kari-chan! That _is_ you, right?"

I turn at the sound of my name, expecting to see caramel eyes and a bright smile.

The (unexpected) smile is wiped from my face because, instead, I am greeted by that—that—_that—__asshole__ Mazda!_

"You ran off pretty quickly last week. I didn't get a chance to talk to you."

My hand twitches on my arm, and my fingers begin to creep up my sleeves, subconsciously heading towards my concealed wakizashis.

"Haha~" I laugh, "you didn't, did you?" _And there's a reason why, you sleazy little—_

"So, you wanna' hang out with me for a while? You looked lonely here by yourself."

I decide to just be blunt. I'm not in the mood to play along or try to be civil. And plus, he just killed my concentration mode. "Hey, can you just leave me alone? I'm babysitting right now," I growl, trying to scan the shop for Lambo.

"Why? Wouldn't you rather be with me?" He grabs my hand, pulling it out of my sleeve.

I jerk my arm back, but he refuses to relinquish hold.

The events are quickly spiralling downward. And if I don't spot an exit sign in this conversation _right now_, Mazda's probably going to end up in the ER. And, I'll have caused trouble for Nana-san and Hibari.

I slap his hand away, but he just raises his other hand, reaching towards me. My right hand slips up my sleeve, gripping my wakizashi tightly.

"Oi," an unfriendly voice calls, "what do you think you're doing?"

My mind registers the voice as familiar, but can't identify it. _G-Gokudera?_

But no head of silver hair greets me.

"What do you want?" Mazda asks, face pulling into a territorial frown.

Mochida smirks. "This is my kohai. So stay away from her. Even if Kariya doesn't know about your reputation, _I_ do; and I won't let you break her heart."

_B-Break my heart? Just who the fuck does he think he's dealing with? Mazda doesn't have a _chance_ with me, and Mochida...who the hell're ya kidding? It's __me__, dammit! My fucking heart doesn't _break_._

"Yeah, you're real intimidating. You lost to Dame-Tsuna, so why should I be afraid of you?" Mazda challenges—a pretty solid argument, I have to agree. But _I_ for one know that Sawada Tsunayoshi is not _just_ Dame-Tsuna.

However, Mochida holds his ground. "Back off, Mazda, you...you—"

"Man-whore?" I supply.

"Yeah. So leave her alone."

"Che!" Mazda scoffs. But he slinks away nonetheless, muttering all the while, "So says the one who lost to Dame-Tsuna..."

"Don't call him that!" I scream after him. Then, making sure that Mazda's gone, I turn to Mochida. "I could've taken care of that loser by myself!"

"Sure you could've," he replies, and I'm unsure of what to say next because I can't tell if that was sincerity or sarcasm.

So I just settle for an insult. "He's right, you know... After all that's said and done, you still lost to Tsuna~" I tease, hoping that he, too, will leave me alone if I'm able to irritate him enough.

He just shrugs. "I underestimated Sawada. I won't go easy on him next time."

I glare at him.

"So, Kari-chan," he says, recovering quickly, "I was—"

"Don't call me that."

"Okay, Kariya-chan, I was—"

"Don't call me that either."

"Will you go out with me?"

"Don't call me tha—" I cut myself off, staring at him. I wave my hand in front of my face, a smile breaking out on my face. "Don't joke with me, Mochida. You're wasting my time. Well, then—"

He grabs my hand, pulling me back to him. "No, I'm serious. Will you go out with me?"

"Where the hell did this come from?" I frown. "This is just out of the blue. What the fuck happened to you? Do you think I'm another one of your conquests—a trophy—or something? Fuck, no!"

"Baa-san! Baa-san! Buy this for me!" Lambo cries, running out of the store with some sort of robot in his hands.

"Lambo!" I cry, switching tracks instantly as the impending doom of monetary consequences looms before me with the arrival of the child. "You can't leave the store with the toy or else you're—"

"Lambo-san's not stealing the toy! Lambo-san's a good kid! Here," He tosses the toy to me, "pay for me, Baa-san!"

"Don't give stolen merchandise to me, either!"

"Here, I'll pay," Mochida offers. Before I can refuse, Lambo snatches up the money, cackling all the way.

"Gyahaha! Now buy me the toy! And some candy, too, gramps! Lambo-san only eats the finest grape candy!"

"Must be tough looking after this kid," Mochida chuckles, ruffling my hair. "I'll see you later then! Just think about it, then, Kari-chan!" he calls, giving one last annoyed glance at Lambo—_my saviour._

"Don't count on it, Mochida!"

"You keep telling yourself that!"

"Fuck off!" I yell, before realizing that five-year-old Lambo is still beside me. I curse under my breath before yelling, "You know what?" I throw my hands up in the air. "I don't want to deal with this anymore! All these idiots—stupid boys... Just leave me alone! Don't you get the fact that you fucking piss me off? Even more so than this brat here!" I point at Lambo, breathing hard from my rant to no one in particular.

But said rant has also given me an idea.

I shoot Lambo with the Ten Year Bazooka. Or, rather, he shoots himself.

"Hey, Lambo!"

"Arara?"

I take the money and the toy out of his hand. "I'll buy you the toy and give you this grape candy if you shoot yourself with the Ten Year Bazooka," I say. The words feel weird on my tongue. I feel like I'm ordering him to commit suicide or something.

"Okay!" he agrees surprisingly easily.

So I walk into the store, trying to block out the high-pitched squeals of the mini-humans and the excitement in the air as I apologize (on Lambo's behalf) to the shopkeeper before buying the robot.

I hand the robot to Lambo, and when he reaches for the candy, I shake my head. "You get the candy when you come back."

He frowns, hugging the robot close to him, but surprisingly complies without another word.

_Damn, _I think through the spews of pink smoke, _the future must be a pretty nice place if Lambo travels there so frequently, and actually __prefers__ being in the future than being stuck here with me._

Fifteen-year-old Lambo steps through the haze. He yelps as soon as he sees me, turns tail and runs.

I give chase, enjoying the adrenaline that pumps through my veins. It's been quite a long while since I've been chasing after someone, rather than being pursued by hunters.

Lambo's lazy, but, running away from me, he's the fastest thing I've ever seen. I grab onto his sleeve. "Wait! Wait! I recognize you now! Lambo! Wait! It's me! I'm sorry for before!"

He stops, hiding behind a tree along the boulevard. "Really? You're not going to attack me again?"

"No. Unless you piss me off," I answer honestly, to which he cowers behind the plant again. "Fine," I sigh. "I won't. Now get out here. Because to anyone we meet, you're my big beefy older brother."

"'Beefy'?" he repeats, stepping out to walk at my side.

"You get what I mean."

"Why?"

"You'll understand soon enough. And even if you don't, it's okay. Just play along, alright?"

"Okay," he replies, somewhat unsure. Then, he reaches out and runs a tender finger over the flowers in my hair. "So this is when you get them from Mama..."

"Yeah," I answer, unsure of what that bittersweet expression on his face really entails.

"You," he says, smiling gently, "look beautiful with them."

I raise an eyebrow, but decline to comment.

We peek into a shop where I force Lambo to try on outlandish hats while I laugh at him. I make him try on ridiculous sunglasses while I laugh at him. I make him wear a real leather jacket, and laugh at the juxtaposition of the cowprint and dead cow skin.

As we leave the store, another guy, maybe a few years older, runs into Lambo, sending him tumbling to the pavement.

Automatically, my hand jerks out and catches the man's arm, holding him in place. "What's your problem, man?" I growl before reaching down and helping a teary Lambo up with my other hand.

"Tell your boyfriend to man up!" the man retorts.

"The fuck?" I cry, letting go of Lambo roughly, standing nose-to-nose with the man, growing restless, aggressive, and beyond confrontational—I guess the anxiety has begun to build up again; the scrimmage with Hibari obviously wasn't enough to quell it completely. _I guess it's a fight that I've been looking for all along._

"That's right!" he yells, seeming to puff up defensively. "Your boyfriend's a wuss!"

"That's _it!_" I grab the collar of his shirt and pull him down to eye level. "You don't know what wuss means, you fucking pansy. You wanna' die? I'm telling you, this guy here...he's the nicest guy I've talked to all day. And my fucking patience is _zero_ right now. But that's _not_ my boyfriend, alright? Am I clear?"

"That makes no sense at all!" he yells indignantly. I tighten my grip on his shirt. "Whoa, whoa...Chill, dude!" he shouts when he sees the irritation flash across my face. He obviously hadn't been anticipating my anger.

"Fucking get lost already!" I hiss, shoving him backwards a few feet before grabbing Lambo's hand and storming off.

The random guy slinks back to his group of thuggie friends who are all laughing their heads off at the dumbass.

However, time flies when you're mad at the world, and five minutes is over a few seconds later when we turn the corner.

"No! No!" Little Lambo cries, squirming in my grasp. "I wanna' go back! I don't wanna be with Baa-san! I wanna' go back to Nee-sama!"

"Well, I prefer your ten years later self anyway..." I mutter. "Fine!" I growl, "Fine! Go, then!" I put him down on his feet, put the promised candy into his hair (just to humour myself—_will it really stay there?_) and watch as he shoots himself with the Ten Year Bazooka—which is still an unsettling sight to see. Yeah, no big deal, a five year old kid shooting himself with a mega-ass bazooka in the middle of a metropolitan area. Just your everyday _wacko._

The older Lambo appears once more, shaking his head slightly. I note that there's a Barney band-aid on his cheek, and Hello Kitty bandages crisscrossing his arms.

I laugh, before asking, "What's wrong?"

"Nee-sama would like me to tell you that it's not going to work."

"'Nee-sama'?" I repeat. _Yeah, his fifteen-year-old self calls me that._

"Oh...um," He points at me, "Nee-sama's older self."

"Eh?" _But little Lambo also mentioned this 'Nee-sama'. Could it be that little Lambo has more respect for this other me...but not for '__me__' me? _ My face pulls into a frown at the thought, but I turn back to my previous concern. "_What's_ not gonna' work?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. How'm _I_ supposed to know? The only one who could possibly know what happens is the future Nee-sama or the future me, whom neither of us are..."

"Hmm. Well, let's go," I say. "The same still applies; you're my beefy older brother."

He falls into step beside me. "Maybe _that's_ what Nee-sama said wouldn't work..."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...remember that guy just a few minutes ago?"

I frown. "Yeah."

"He assumed that I was your boyfriend."

I pause in my tracks. "Lambo. Are you hitting on me?" I ask, irritation and a hint of disgust creeping into my voice.

"No, no!" He shakes his head frantically. "I'm just being a gentleman like I was taught! I'm supposed to be polite to young ladies such as you. And since you're in need of my help, I'll pretend to be your boyfriend."

"What's my older self feeding you...?" I mutter to myself. _I need to lay off the grape candies, or else I'll end creating this crackpot Lambo in the future._

I freeze as Lambo gently takes my hand, and raises it to his lips, brushing his lips over my knuckles.

"WHO THE _FUCK_'S BEEN TEACHING YOU THIS SHIT?" I cry, springing away from him immediately. But his grip on my hand is firm.

_It's not so much the fact that he's holding my hand but, rather, the gentleness in which he displays—so different than that fucker Mazda. But...I guess it __is__ because he's holding my hand, too. Not that anyone's ever held my hand like this before anyway..._

"Oh, come on, Nee-sama...Even Nii-chan held my hand!"

"That was when you were a little kid!" I shout indignantly. "And I don't think he kissed your hand either!"

"You're attracting attention, Nee-sama."

True to his words, I am. So I lower my voice, whispering harshly, "Who's been teaching you this 'gentleman' stuff?"

"Um...a lot of people," he answers hesitantly.

I give him a sharp look. "Elaborate."

"Eh...well, it's guaranteed to work..."

I lean back a bit. _If it's guaranteed to work..._ I shake my head, going back to the issue at hand. "WHO corrupted you?"

"I wouldn't necessarily say 'corrupt'...me—eh—uh." He begins to stutter when I fix my glare on him and refuse to look away even as he breaks eye contact. He squirms then says, "It was Gokudera-shi, Shamal-san, Ryohei-shi, Yamamoto-shi, and—and—a lot of other people like Nii-chan!"

"'Nii-chan'? Even TSUNA?" I scratch my head. Those guys...even in the future they're still such idiots... "You idiot. They guaranteed that it would work if you were trying to _seduce_ someone. But if it's for our purposes, that _doesn't work!_ Just...Just—Just walk and talk to me."

"But Nee-sama... You and I both know that you're not much for small talk. It won't work. You'll have to show them more obviously."

I glare at him, then at his outstretched hand. Face reddening, I look away before taking his hand. "Geez man. Can't get a girl? Is that it? Is that why you're so desperate to hold my hand?"

"No!" he responds immediately. "I just..."

When he trails off, I give him a quizzical glance. I'm startled by the pained expression on his face.

"What's wrong, Lambo?" I ask, trying to make my voice gentler.

"Nee-sama...please promise me that you won't do anything stupid..."

"...When do I ever do stupid things?" I retort.

"Please, Nee-sama... In the future...you do...reckless things—like you're desperate for something. No one knows what you're doing. You're either off with _her,_ or you're somewhere. But...we hardly ever see you anymore. Out of all of us, I see you the most. But even _I_ don't know what you're doing. All I know that it's dangerous, and...and—" He begins to cry, and suddenly I'm enveloped in this little big kid's hug. "Nee-sama's always—(hic)—always hurt when I see her. I know we're..." his voice quietens, "mafia...but these wounds...they're not—(_hic_)—not _natural_. Whenever I see Nee-sama, she always looks so—(_hic, hic_) —so, so, _sad_."

Standing in the middle of the crowded shopping district, I don't give a damn about these nosy people anymore.

My arms slowly come up to wrap around Lambo's lithe, shaking frame. "It's...okay. Hey, Lambo, you know me...I'm tough. I...I suck at this...I can't think of anything to say. But everything works itself out eventually, ne?"

He sniffles, arms tightening around me.

"I think you just needed a hug, ne?" I try to lighten the atmosphere, clearing my throat uncomfortably. "But, seriously. Lambo, man up. You'll be returning to the future in a few minutes—you can't look like you're crying, or the older me will know. Crap. If _I_ know, then she must already know, ne?"

"Then bring me back again..." Lambo says, straightening up again. He lets me pull away, his arms dropping back to his sides. "I...I like _this_ Nee-sama more—the one who smiles naturally, the one that still loves and is loved. The one who still wears the flowers that Mama gave her in her hair."

Then he disappears.

As the smoke clears, I wave it away half-heartedly. _What the hell do I become in the future? Lambo speaks as if I'm some freak of nature or something..._

Lambo strolls along at my side, having long since abandoned the robot (I have a sneaking suspicion that it's either somehow being stored in his hair, or it's already lying forgotten in the gutter); but no matter, he's speaking nonsensically to me, skipping along—_almost_ behaving for once.

A man in a white suit approaches me, flitting from woman to woman, flirting as he goes. I groan as he draws nearer.

"_Mademoiselle_, you look absolutely dazzling with those blooms in your hair. They accentuate the bright orbs of your eyes, the gentle grace of your body as you promenade...Care to join me?"

"LEAVE ME. THE FUCK. ALONE," I snarl, having used up all of my patience with all of the previous jerks, snatching Lambo up, who protests loudly.

"Mademoiselle, you seem very stressed. Would you like to tell me what's wrong? Perhaps I may be of some assistance? Or is it that you wish to—"

I all but stuff Lambo into the pink bazooka before I pull the trigger. "DEMON, BEGONE!"

"'Demon'?"

I grab onto ten-years-later Lambo's arm as soon as he materialises. "I have a boyfriend, so back off, buddy!"

It's silent for a moment as we all assess each other.

"Oh, it's you again," the man says. This is definitely not the reaction I was expecting, or was hoping to achieve. "I should've recognized your younger self, Mr. Bovino."

"Shamal-san," Lambo greets.

"It...didn't work..." I breathe.

"I see _you_," he turns to me, "know about the Ten Year Bazooka. That means that you must be involved, somehow, too."

I frown, subconsciously backing away, behind Lambo.

"Well," this 'Shamal' says, "never mind all that! What's your name, pretty lady?"

"Get away from me! I've had enough of dumbasses today!"

"Hey! Mister! Leave Kariya-chan alone!" a spunky voice orders.

"Haru?" I turn to the newcomer..._s_. Haru runs towards me, followed by Kyoko, Sasagawa and Yamamoto.

Haru pulls on my arm, and Kyoko says, "Come on, Kariya-chan. Let's go."

But the Shamal guy switches targets. "Why hello there, your face is as refreshing as a spring daisy~"

"OI! YOU LEAVE MY SISTER ALONE!" Sasagawa roars. Then he grabs his sister's hand, and we're all towed along by his...enthusiasm. Lambo has somehow, conveniently without notice, switched places with his five-year-old self during all of this.

By the time we've run a block, Kyoko forces her brother to stop, and she pants, laughing at his bout of 'passion'.

Haru takes Lambo from me, and it's just as well, since it appears that he prefers Haru over me. The two girls, as well as Lambo head off into a cake shop. They invite me along—but, I have no money, and don't exactly want to advertise that fact, nor wallow around for pity.

So I stay with the two meatheads. Well, _one_ meathead now, since Sasagawa appears to have kept running—if I'm not mistaken, that's his head of white hair down three blocks from here.

"Hey, Kari-chan." Yamamoto smiles. "Waa, those flowers look really nice in your hair."

"Oh, hey." I regard him suspiciously. _He's not trying anything like that Shamal or anything, is he? And he's not gonna' burst into tears like Lambo, is he?_

But all he does is look back at me and ask, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," I reply.

"Are you sure?" he presses. "You're limping."

"I...I always walk like this. I don't know what you're talking about." _Why's he studying me so closely? Maybe Reborn was right; maybe I _am_ a freak of nature._

"Really? I never noticed."

"Yeah, well, it's worse on some days..." I raise my eyebrow, studying him in return. "How about you? You don't look so great yourself."

"Wha?" He smothers a yawn with his hand.

"Did you get _any_ sleep?" I frown slightly, examining his face. "And what's this I hear about you staying over at Tsuna's house?"

"Oh," he laughs, "that. Um, well, it was really late—"

"—don't give me that crap," I snap. "Tell me. _What happened?_"

He blinks twice, looking, for all the world, like a little puppy dog. "Nothing at all. Don't worry, Kari-chan! You're alright!"

My frown deepens, and we continue to walk along. After a long silence, I decide to drop the topic (_for now_). "Well...you still didn't need to do that. I was just resting my head. Why didn't you just wake me up? I could've finished paying off whatever I owed."

"Haha~ Did you know that you sleepwalk?" he asks.

I frown. "No I don't."

"Yeah, you do! You were sleepwalking last night!"

"I don't sleepwalk," I insist.

"Oi! Yamamoto! Otaku! You're lagging!" Sasagawa calls, jogging back to us.

"Hey, Sunny-D!" I call, smiling at his usual energetic self, still wondering why Yamamoto would say that I was sleepwalking. "Have you been practising your ninja skills?"

He frowns slightly. "Kyoko's friend told me that you weren't actually an extreme ninja."

I tilt my head. "You thought that I was a ninja?"

He nods avidly. "See? I _told_ her that you definitely were a ninja!"

My mouth curves up into a grin. "Of _course_ I am! What's this girl talking about?"

"Well," Yamamoto scratches his head, "it was Kurokawa-san who told him that, so..."

"Oh, Kurokawa," I say. "That makes sense, then. She never really liked me anyway."

"So," I turn back to Sasagawa, "what do I have to do to prove to you that I am, indeed, an extreme ninja?"

"You need to do something totally, epically, _extremely _IMPOSSIBLE."

"Alright, then!" I pull on both of their arms. "Yamamoto will be testament to this act of extreme ninja...ness!"

* * *

><p>"If you can do this, <em>then<em> I'll acknowledge you as an extreme ninja!"

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

I close my eyes, apologizing beforehand. I hold my breath, waiting for the people to pass through the revolving door.

Wait...

_...Now!_

I push the door, sending it spinning quickly.

_SLAM!_

"You...actually did it..." Sunny-D is speechless for once. "You slammed a revolving door."

"Of course. Because _I_ am an extreme ninja...ne?"

"Yeah..." Sunny-D says, still in shock.

"Haha~ That was pretty awesome, Kari-chan!"

I murmur a silent sorry to the unfortunate man whose foot was caught in the revolving door.

In my defence: It was necessary to achieve the impossible...

* * *

><p><em>Maybe we don't have to grow up so fast, after all...na? No matter how bad it gets...I'll always have you guys; and you'll always have me to depend on. Isn't that enough—at least, for now?<em>

_I know it won't stay like this for much longer, but you know, I...I enjoyed my time with you guys._

_Thank you._

* * *

><p><strong>(Long-ish) Omake:<strong>

_*This is what happened when Yamamoto brought Kariya back the night before. It was originally supposed to be the ending to chapter 15._

"Yamamoto-kun?" Sawada Nana answers the door in a nightgown. "Kariya-chan?"

The sleepwalking girl does not respond.

"Haha~ Good evening, Nana-san! I think Kari-chan's sleepwalking; she fell asleep back at the restaurant."

"Oh my... Thank you for bringing her back." Nana opens the door wider. "Why don't you come inside?"

"Alright!" he accepts with a wide smile, leading Kariya into the kitchen by the hand. Nana smiles as she observes the two, closing the door behind her.

"Kaa-san, what's going on?" Tsuna peeks downstairs.

"Tsu-kun, you two aren't asleep yet?" Nana calls up to him.

"No, we heard a commotion," Gokudera replies, coming to stand beside the brunet.

"Sorry to worry you, Gokudera-kun," she replies. "It was just Yamamoto-kun walking Kariya-chan back."

"Kariya-san?" Tsuna repeats, alarmed.

"Yes," Nana answers. Then she turns back to the other two—Kariya seated randomly on the tabletop and Yamamoto trying to lift her off of it—and says, "Yamamoto-kun, it's late; you're welcome to stay over if you'd like. Just make sure to call your father and let him know, alright?"

Tsuna and Gokudera make their way past her as Yamamoto thanks her.

She takes a look at the little crowd forming in the kitchen and smiles, happy that her son has managed to meet and become friends with so many good people.

* * *

><p>"So she's really asleep?" Tsuna asks yet again, to which Yamamoto nods.<p>

"I think so."

Gokudera pokes and prods at her, trying to elicit some sort of response, other than the hazy, unfocused stare that she gives him.

"Hey, Gokudera," Yamamoto speaks up, "don't they say that you shouldn't wake a sleepwalker?"

"Shut up," is the automatic response. "I'm not trying to wake her up. I'm trying to see if she's been possessed."

"Possessed?" Tsuna's voice rises. "_Possessed?_ By what?"

Gokudera shrugs.

Tsuna sighs, rubbing his temples, quickly dismissing the thought as just another 'Gokudera thing'.

"Well," he begins, "at any rate we'll have to wake her up. Let's just wait until she goes back to sleep before we do that, okay?"

The rest of them nod at the suggestion.

"Gokudera-kun, can you go find Bianchi and ask her to get some clothes for Kariya-san?"

"Gah! W-Wh—!" he cries. Then, he murmurs his assent under his breath. "A-ah."

"Yamamoto, can you help me start the bath for Kariya-san?"

"Sure!"

And so, the three, thinking that their teamwork might actually succeed, set off to fulfill their given tasks. But, of course, things never work out perfectly, especially in the Sawada household.

Bare feet tiptoe down the stairs, padding across clean wooden floors before heading into the kitchen. They pause for a moment, getting used to the sudden coldness of the tiles before continuing on towards the fridge.

"Yare, yare... Where's the milk?" The teenager pokes around the carrots and the ketchup before resurfacing with a carton of milk. Pouring a cup for himself, he put it into the microwave to warm it up.

As the cup begins to revolve, he turns to survey the room—it's exactly the way he remembers it (when he was five as well as the last time he'd been here via the Ten Year Bazooka), save for the girl seated on the table, staring at him with soulless eyes.

Fifteen-year-old Lambo jumps onto the countertop when he feels her dead gaze boring through him. His skin crawls as he takes a closer look.

"Wait," he says, more to assure himself than anything else, "I know you." He tilts his head, climbing off the countertop and approaching her slowly. "N-Nee-sama? Is that you?"

She does not reply.

"It _is_ you! Oh, I see, you're asleep...with your eyes open...like Reborn."

The microwave beeps, and the girl gets off the table, and shocked, Lambo watches (and lets) her remove the cup from the contraption and take a long sip from it. Then, she places the cup down on the table, taking a seat across from it—a clear invitation to the boy to sit down as well.

Only the _slightest_ bit unnerved, Lambo sits down. He takes a careful drink from the cup, unsure of what to say to her while in this comatose state.

"Um...I don't know what to say."

"..." She fixates her eyes on him, and he drinks down the remainder of his milk quickly.

"I mean, Nee-sama, you're not gonna' reply are you?"

"What makes you think that?" she murmurs, a smirk appearing on her face.

Lambo shrieks, footsteps patter down the hall, there's a poof of pink smoke and a creepy giggle. "_Kshesese~"_

"What happened?"

"Kari-chan? Are you okay?"

"Oi! Stupid woman! Wha—? _Ahoushi?_

The three boys, accompanied by Bianchi wave the pink smoke away.

"Lambo!" Tsuna admonishes. "What're you doing out of bed?"

"Arara?" Five-year-old Lambo says sleepily. "Baa-san has a milk moustache~"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

So, lots of things happening in this chapter. That's why it took a bit longer. The rankings, the Lambo-ing (yes, 'Lambo' is now a verb, because I find it hard to describe general 'Lambo-ness' with just one word), the male territorialism (Mochida will become important later on, so please, bear with his idiocy like I am... ^_^"), the appearance of Shamal, and the overall weird occurrences (if you happened to catch them all).

I hope the extreme length made up for the wait, though, or was it a bit too much?

Has anyone else ever thought of slamming a revolving door like that? And can someone please tell me, is it _really_ considered cheating?

This chapter's finished just in time for school too (starts on Tuesday, September 6th)! At least, for all us Canadians... I'm sure most of you have already gone back to school. My knowledge of other school systems really sucks, and I bet some of you guys run on schedules a lot different than ours.

But nonetheless, I wish you all another successful, awesome year! Work hard and live crazy awesomely!


	17. Flash Point

**Chapter 17**

**Flash Point**

* * *

><p><strong>Flash Point:<strong> The lowest temperature that a volatile material can vaporize to form an ignitable mixture in air.

* * *

><p>There has been an odd escalation of violence in Namimori ever since we returned to school. It's unprecedented, and it seems to be directed exclusively at Nami Chuu's students (There have been three separate beatings of five students over the last few days alone). Something tells me that those Kokuyo punks might be mad at Hibari again.<p>

Other than that, it's been uneventful for the last few days that we've been back at school; though I guess that's not such a bad thing...

But, still, I'm feeling antsy. I need to _fight._ I feel like causing a schoolyard brawl, crossing blades with Hibari, or even just arguing with Bomber-Boy. I need something to jolt me awake from the sleepy peace of Namimori.

_But it wouldn't be bad to spend the rest of your days like this... Peaceful...ne?_

I scowl to myself. _Of course not._ I need some action; some trouble... or I'll go and cause some.

It's a regular school day. I leave a bit earlier than Tsuna so as not to be seen walking with him—and no doubt pestered by Yamamoto and Gokudera—and so I can walk with Haru for a while before parting ways. She attends the prestigious (or so I've heard) Midori Girl's Academy on the other side of town, but I've found that she's interesting to talk to. Well, mostly she talks and I listen. We're not a bad match.

She talks of producing the school play and how she's the set and costume designer, as well as a stagehand and how tough the jobs actually are, especially all at once. She had turned down the offer of being the lead's understudy so that she could commit fully to her other jobs. Haru says that they have to practice for many hours, but how, in the end, everything would come together and it'd all be worth it—the money earned by the production would be donated to charity.

She gasps suddenly, having forgotten something or other—homework, scripts, her measuring tape and the like. Today, it's her lunch.

I chastise her lightly about her forgetfulness and the stress that her jobs are causing her, but she insists that she loves them despite the long hours and effort required.

Then as I hand her the small package, she brings up a common topic—manga—and we're off. It turns out that Haru's a closet otaku, though she mainly reads Shojo and the psychological thrillers, while I generally stick to classic Shonen and Seinen and the occasional horror manga. And, as it would be, she's also an avid cosplayer (which would explain her passion for costume design in spite of the tedious labour involved).

At the corner by the bridge, we part ways. I laugh and wave to her as she turns down another street, yelling a loud "thanks!" back at me.

And then I continue on alone.

* * *

><p>"I'll be handing back the science tests that you wrote a few days ago. I'm shocked and appalled that three of this class's students failed it," Sensei says.<p>

I mentally go through the attendance list. One of them is obviously going to be—

"Sawada Tsunayoshi! You've pulled down the class average with this!" Sensei holds the paper up for all to see the '20%' clearly marked in angry red ink.

Tsuna sinks down lower in his seat, and I see Gokudera's chair start scraping backwards. His anger is evident even if I can only see the back of his Octopus-head.

"What? You have something to say, Gokudera? Well, why don't we see what your mark is?" Sensei skims through the papers, pulling one out. His face darkens, matching Bomber-Boy's sour expression. Only from my seat can the mark be seen, because of the light shining into the room and bleeding through the paper—'100%'.

_Who knew Bomber-Boy was a genius?_

Sensei slams the paper, face-down, onto his desk. Gokudera, even knowing he's technically 'won', still doesn't calm down because of the earlier slight at his precious Juudaime.

It's not until Sensei moves onto the next person he's got beef with that Gokudera's scowl disappears. "Yamamoto!" he barks.

I hear shuffling behind me as Yamamoto is startled awake. "'M'here!" he calls in a sleepy, yet jovial tone.

_Whatever that means..._

"Stop sleeping in class!" Sensei looks exasperated. "You'll need remedial classes if your marks are consistently low. You might also be temporarily taken off of the baseball team," he warns as he walks past me to put the test paper down on Yamamoto's desk.

"Aww..." Yamamoto sighs at his 49%, "I was so close..." I watch him as he fixes the textbook in front of his face and probably falls back asleep.

I sigh, then freeze as I turn back around to see Sensei glowering down at me. "And you..." he growls. "You've beaten the class's...no, the _school's_, personal record." He holds my test up like a trophy, letting the entire class revel in the mark. "You've even beaten Sawada!"

He slams the sheet down on my desk, and I look down at the angry kanji and loopy hiragana crisscrossing the page, complimented by X's; insult is added to injury by the single-digit numeral in the top right corner: 7%.

"—obviously guessed! Your answers, when actually applicable, are hardly even legible!"

"That just means that you can't read English..." I mutter to myself.

By this time, people are either blatantly staring at me or have politely ducked their heads and refrained from making eye contact with me. But no matter, I feel their gazes and thoughts on me, and my cheeks flush in response.

"Excuse me?" he asks, voice rising. The rest of the class is silent as they watch the altercation. "The only questions you answered correctly were the balancing of chemical equations. Why is that? The rest of your paper—the short answer questions, the essay questions, _even the multiple choice_—was completely wrong!"

I turn the test over. Sure enough, I screwed up on the multiple choice questions as well. _Hmm, oh well. This stuff is garbage material anyway. Why would I ever need to know this?_ My fingernails dig into the palms of my hands underneath my desk.

Sensei continues in his self-righteous rant, no doubt to 'make an example of me' since he can't exactly do this to Gokudera. He's having a field day. "Can you not read? Is that it? Who taught you Japanese?"

_I was only taught enough to get in and out of Japan to assassinate the Decimo—I'd never really expected to stay this long. My teachers were both powerful people—multilingual, non-Japanese, of the Mafia underworld, and above all, _dead.

It takes all of my willpower to stay in my seat and not take my frustrations out on him—this just isn't the right opponent—and just to answer him civilly.

"Why're you so hung up on that?" I throw back, subconsciously jutting my chin out challengingly. "You're a science teacher. So teach me science, and leave language to the language teacher. Maybe if you were more concerned with actually teaching your students and not trying to outsmart Gokudera—which you really fail at (he's the one that makes you look stupid)—then you wouldn't have students that were failing. Just a thought... You can carry on now if you'd like."

_...Alright..._somewhat_ civilly. _

I watch as Sensei's face gradually reddens. "That's a detention for you, Asunake. Report to the Reception room afterschool," Sensei says tightly.

* * *

><p>Most of the kids avoid me at lunch, opting to 'stay away from the trouble kid'. I shrug. It's not like I wanted their attention, nor company, anyway.<p>

I head up to the rooftop. Instead of feeling better after that row with the teacher, I actually feel pumped; and I'm thinking that a confrontation with Hibari would be great right now. But I don't see him anywhere.

I kick at the still-rusting chain-link fence, mulling over my irritation, letting it fester and grow. It's probably not the healthiest way to blow off steam, what with the creation of yet more anger, but what else is there to do?

There's the _ta-tap, ta-tap_ of running footsteps, accompanied by much yelling, then the door opens, revealing a panting Kyoko.

"Kyoko?" I walk over to her, unsure of what happened, or what to do.

She looks up with a worried smile. "Kariya-chan! Are you okay?"

"Geez," another voice calls, "what were you thinking, Kyoko?" Hana walks up to us, offering her hand to Kyoko who accepts it.

Hana cleans Kyoko off while the smaller girl looks up at her. "It's alright, Hana."

"I'm telling you," the black-haired girl says to Kyoko, then looks up at me, "I mean, no offense to you, Asunake," then she turns back to Kyoko, "you shouldn't associate yourself with such people. It's bad for your own reputation and education. You don't want to get on the teachers' bad sides," Hana says matter-of-factly.

"Hana!" Kyoko exclaims.

"What? It's true," Hana says.

"Hana's right," I agree. "You shouldn't worry about me. You've got problems of your own. Go ahead and eat your lunch." I turn away from them. _Leave me alone...!_

"If it's alright with you, Kariya-chan, we'll eat up here with you," Kyoko says determinedly.

"Kyoko-chan! Kurokawa!" Tsuna's voice shouts. His eyes settle on me. "Kariya-san!"

"Hey," I greet gruffly, turning away. _Great. More idiots. What is this? A travelling freak show? Of course, if Tsuna's involved, he's not in it alone—_

"Tsuna! Sasagawa-senpai's still looking for you!" Yamamoto laughs. "He says that he wants you in his boxing club whether you like it or not."

"Nii-san..." Kyoko sighs.

"Juudaime!" Gokudera leaps out from the stairs. "I won't let that Lawn-Head get you!"

Hana scoffs, which sparks a (sort-of one-sided) argument between her and Gokudera (because as much as she insists that she's mature, I can see that she's just as opinionated as the male in question).

Somehow, though, we end up sitting in a rough, circular arrangement on the rooftop, the boys having already eaten, and the girls who have pulled their bento boxes out.

Tsuna shoots me an odd look, but I disregard it.

"So, is it true?" Gokudera asks suddenly, breaking the uncomfortable silence (even Kyoko has stopped trying to fill it with idle chitchat).

"What?" I ask.

"That you can't read," he elaborates.

"I can read!" I shoot back indignantly.

Reborn appears, seemingly from nowhere, landing on Tsuna's head and bowling him over. Hana cries out, hives breaking out on her skin. She stands, yelling something about 'hating kids' and runs off.

Kyoko looks around at us before scooping up her and Hana's belongings. She bows, excusing herself quickly, and runs after her.

"...What just happened?" I ask.

"Kurokawa doesn't like kids...she gets hives whenever she's near them," Tsuna explains. "Especially around Lambo..." he adds as an afterthought.

I nod. Around Lambo, that's understandable. But I have to think back to the ten-years-later Lambo. He didn't seem that bad. At least Lambo, no matter how annoying he is now, grows up to be a nice kid.

"Anyway, why're you here Reborn?" _You just __conveniently__ showed up now to rid us of the only two among us that aren't related to the Mafia, ne? Coincidence? Obviously not. Some shit's going down._

Reborn smirks, pulling out a manila folder (_"Waa! Reborn! Where'd you get _that_ from?"_). He takes a few sheets out. "These are some of your documents. They were all returned just a few days ago, am I correct?"

I don't bother replying as he already knows the answer.

Reborn continues, "No matter...I dug into the school system and found your grades for the short time that you've been at Nami Chuu."

"Where's this going?" I question, genuinely confused.

He smirks, and then begins reading off of the sheets. "Physical Education: 71%. Asunake Kariya is encouraged to participate more in class and for team sports. When she does participate she is a pleasure to teach." Reborn pauses to assess my reaction.

"Generic crap," I say. "The teacher actually just hates me, all because I'm a ball hog and I need to _share_ with all these idiots. Well, if I _do_ 'share', then I'm not exactly _participating_ anymore, am I?"

"That's not true, Kari-chan," Yamamoto replies. "That's just how team sports work. And it's more fun that way, isn't it?"

"No," I answer immediately, playing Devil's Advocate. "No, it's not."

Reborn continues to read, effectively cutting Gokudera off. If he hadn't, it would've ignited the argument that I'm still itching for. I sit back, a bit disappointed. "Math: 83%. Asunake Kariya is encouraged to participate more in class. She demonstrates an average understanding of concepts taught in class, and is encouraged to try to apply these skills in word problems, which she appears to struggle with."

"What he means is that he wants me to pay more attention in class," I transliterate. "That and the fact that I suck at word problems. So what? Everyone does worse in word problems than the simple arithmetic ones, ne?"

"No, it's just you," Gokudera mutters under his breath.

_That's it! _ I smirk internally._There's__ the fight I've been waiting for._

Reborn jumps onto my head, keeping me down and unable to move over to Gokudera. I growl shortly at his action as he flips the page. "Science: 44%. Asunake Kariya is advised to change her attitude regarding her education."

Their eyes widen, and I do my best to glare up at Reborn, who's still occupying the crown of my head.

"Is that all he bothered to write?" I ask, a smirk creeping onto my face.

"For a failing student with that kind of attitude, you should be grateful that he bothered to write anything at all," Reborn replies smartly, effectively killing the self-righteous sense of pride growing in my chest.

"Kariya-san...I didn't know you were struggling in school..." Tsuna breathes.

"Shut up!" I retort, face turning red, then add in a mutter, "It's only because I hate the subject..."

"Is that so?" Reborn murmurs thoughtfully. There's the sharp crackle of the paper as Reborn flips another page. The corner of the sheet pokes me in the eye, and I flinch, brushing it angrily out of my face, threatening to rip the staple out and send the papers flying.

Reborn ignores me as he reads, "History: 51%. Asunake Kariya exemplifies her knowledge of dates and timelines in her work, though she is advised to focus more on the happenings and events in history in a more in-depth manner."

"Well, you always seem to know the right answer when it comes to the date of an event or war or stuff like that!" Yamamoto says brightly.

"Are you stupid?" Gokudera scoffs. "The teacher's saying that that's _all_ she knows."

"Well those things are just easier to remember, and it's faster to read those—y'know, last minute studying and all that...just connect a number to a major event. That's it."

"And that's why you're barely passing the subject," he fires back.

_Touché..._ I have nothing to say to that.

Reborn cuts in then, saving me the trouble of thinking of a retort. "English: 90%. Asunake Kariya shows an exceptional understanding of the English language. She shows avidness for the language, writing book reports, and even essays, in English. The effort is much appreciated, but she is advised to follow the rubrics and write them in the required language—Japanese."

"Show-off," Gokudera mutters.

"Why would you do that anyway, Kariya-san?" Tsuna asks. "I mean, it—"

Reborn cuts him off. "Japanese: 29%," he pauses for effect before continuing, "Asunake Kariya is advised to take remedial classes to catch up to her classmates. She shows a below-average understanding of the written language. The current mark is from a weight system using a 50% weight factor for written Japanese, 30% for reading and comprehension, and 20% for oral. She scored 10% in writing, 20% in reading/comprehension and 90% in oral. Supplementary classes are strongly suggested."

There's a long silence.

"What?" I growl. "If you have anything to say, don't hold back for me. Just say it, dammit."

"Even Tsuna has a low 50 average in Japanese," Reborn speaks. I can hear the smirk in his voice.

"You're illiterate," Gokudera concludes.

"I'm not fucking _illiterate!_ I can read and write perfectly well!"

"Yeah, not Japanese, obviously."

"K-Kariya-san...can you really not read or write Japanese?"

I look away from them angrily. "I can speak it fine."

"You should ask for help when you need it, Kariya," Reborn says, jumping over onto Tsuna's head.

"Che. Is that why you did this?" I hiss. "Well, I'm telling you, I don't need help! I can get along just fine. I can recognize enough words to survive and that's good enough for me!"

"You won't be much to use to us if you can't read or write," Reborn replies calmly.

Yamamoto interjects, "Do you really write in English on your tests?"

My anger is temporarily defused as my train of thought switches tracks. "What? How do you know that?" I ask, surprised.

"I heard you in class," he replies simply. Well, that's to be expected, as he sits right behind me.

"Wait, weren't you sleeping?"

"Haha~ I was kinda'..._ish_ half awake."

"Che. Well you shouldn't be sleeping in class anyway."

"That's true...I'll pay more attention if you try harder in school," Yamamoto says. "Or, I can help you in Japanese if you'll help me with math!"

"Che. You? Teaching?" Gokudera laughs shortly at Yamamoto.

I'm caught off guard and I stammer for a few moments until I realize what it is that he's trying to do. "Do what you will, and I'll do what I want. What you want to do is no business of mine, just like what I choose to do is none of yours."

"Kariya-san, we can help you."

"Che," I scoff, standing and walking back towards the stairs.

"K-Kariya-san! Aren't you at least going to eat something? Where's your bento that Kaa-san made for you?"

"I threw it out," I say sarcastically before rolling my eyes. "What do _you_ think?"

I slam the door behind me.

* * *

><p>"Oi..." I call out as I slide the door to the nurses' office open. "Oi...anybody here? I feel sick, so I'm gonna' lie down and sleep some. For a bit. Or for a long time. Whatever..." I say to the room.<p>

Shrugging, I plop down on one of the beds, only to find myself face-to-face with a lecherous grin.

"Why hello there, young lady. It's a small world, isn't it?" Shamal chuckles.

I have no intention of giving up the comfy bed, so I hold my ground. "Fancy meeting you here; I would never have expected the school to allow such a pervert to become the school nurse. I'm not one for small talk, so leave me alone." I then roll over and close my eyes.

"My, my, Kariya-chan—" I stiffen at my name, but realize that as the school nurse, he probably has access to a whole bunch of my files. "—why so sad? Won't you tell me what troubles you?"

"No," I answer curtly. "Leave me alone. I don't even know you. All I know of you is that you've got something to do with the—" I cut myself off. _I only __think__ that he's in the Mafia...but what if he's not?_

He chuckles. "It's alright, little lady; Reborn told me about you."

"You know Reborn?" I frown, sitting up.

"Yes, we go back a ways," he answers vaguely—professionally.

My eyes narrow, and I offer a small (testy) smile, if not only in admiration. This man hides an intelligent mind behind his outer persona.

He sits up, chuckling lightly. "You _are_ quite the feisty one," he says, and I pause, unsure of whether to lie back down or bolt. So I just stare at him suspiciously. "...But it couldn't be that you're hiding something, could it? Why won't you tell me, little lady? I might be able to help."

"Yeah right. I highly doubt it. Now leave me alone, dammit." I shake out the blanket, letting it settle over me naturally.

I feel Shamal's observant gaze, examining me, poking holes in my defence.

"I know why the ballerina dances," he says, studying my face closely. The statement is too sudden, too random, too _unexpected_ for me to anticipate. _Dammit! He got my guard down!_

"O-Oh? What do you mean?" I attempt to cover up my mistake weakly, when all I'd like to do is pound his face in until he tells me where he got his information from and why the hell he's digging into my past anyway.

He chuckles, smoothing his jacket down, and walking to the door. "Don't play dumb with me, Kariya-chan."

I freeze, a shocked expression giving way to anger.

But before I can retort, he deals the killing blow: "The ballerina _still_ dances."

Then he leaves me to ponder and seethe at his words alone.

* * *

><p>I skip the rest of school, staring at the ceiling of the nurses' office. When the final bell rings, I head to the reception room—maybe instead of a detention, I can release my anger in the form of another scrimmage with Hibari.<p>

However, when I enter the room, I find it filled with various members of the Disciplinary Committee. They're lined up on the sides of the room in an orderly fashion, while one appears to be speaking to Hibari at his desk. They all look so tense.

"What's...going on here?" I ask, not sure that I should be asking, or even here, for that matter.

Their eyes all turn onto me, and I gasp as I see the man at Hibari's desk. When he turns around, I see the blood running down the side of his face, which is bruised and starting to swell.

Hibari looks peeved when he sees me. "Get out," is all he says.

Suya-san puts his hand on my shoulder, guiding me out with only a silent shake of his head. I'm quick to comply. It's not like I wanted to stay there anyway. But I can't help but wonder just what it is that he's so annoyed about, and why that guy was bleeding...

Was he another victim of the gang activity? If so, then I'm assuming that he's either one of the luckier victims (from the gruesome tales I've heard from eavesdropping on some other student's conversations), or that the violence is only going to get worse from here on in.

I frown, looking back up at the school. I sigh, then join the steady flow of students streaming through the gates, heading home.

_Hibari, you idiot...what'd you do to the Kokuyo kids this time?_

* * *

><p>I toss my shoes in the genkan before stepping into a pair of red house slippers that (<em>embarrassingly<em>) have my name embroidered onto them. Have I been integrated into their lives so _easily?_

"Ara? Fuuta-kun, is that you?" Nana-san calls. "Oh! Welcome home Kariya-chan!" she greets as she sees me. I'm a bit taken aback at her words, and I opt to just duck my head in response. Her voice draws me into the kitchen, somewhat against my will.

"What happened to Fuuta?" I ask.

"Oh..." she says, donning a worried look that only mother's have. "Fuuta-kun hasn't come back since this morning when he went out to play with Lambo-kun and I-Pin-chan."

I glance out the back door to see the two younger children playing in the backyard. "So Fuuta's missing?"

"I don't know...Tsu-kun and Reborn-kun went to go look for him and they haven't come back either."

_Well, Fuuta's a mafia kid. He can take care of himself._ But I can't tell her that, for obvious reasons. So I just settle for, "He'll be okay. Fuuta's a smart kid. He can take care of himself."

"You're right. I should have faith in him and Tsu-kun and Reborn-kun." Then she swiftly changes the subject. "How did you like the bento?" she asks.

"Ne?" I'm caught off guard at the sudden change of topic as well as the offhand question.

"Tsuna wouldn't tell me what you thought of it, so I just assumed that you didn't like it..." her voice trails off as her face falls ever so slightly.

"Um..." I decide to be truthful. "Well, the vegetables were gone really fast."

She laughs lightly. "I know that you don't like vegetables, but you still have to eat them, you know."

I nod. _I didn't eat _any_ of it...so technically, I'm even on all those counts, ne?_

"What about the octopus wieners? I know that you like them."

Now, _those,_ I'd been kind of sad to see go. But it was a necessary sacrifice. "You're absolutely right, I love them! Thank you, Nana-san!" I force out through a painfully fake smile.

Thankfully, I'm saved by the doorbell.

Nana-san excuses herself to answer the door. Then, I regret being thankful at the sound of the doorbell.

"Kariya-chan!" Haru bursts into the room, quickly followed by Kyoko.

I groan internally, already halfway up the stairs. _I'm not in the mood to talk with anyone. I just want to be alone to mull over Shamal's words, and the beaten Disciplinary Committee member and let my anger fester._

I close my door behind me, hoping that that will be enough of a (feeble attempt at a) message for them to leave me alone.

But, apparently not, as they walk up with their schoolbags and a tray of food that Nana-san no doubt gave them.

"How are you, Kariya-chan?" Haru begins.

"Good..." I reply, spinning slowly in my spinney chair.

"Well, we brought some of our homework to do, would you like to join us?" Haru pulls out a math textbook.

I grimace and change the subject quickly. "How was the rehearsal today?"

"Oh. Thank you for the bento this morning, Kariya-chan! You really saved me! We were practising all through lunch, and I would've starved if not for you!" She places her textbook back in her bag, which I sigh internally at, and gives me a quick hug, which I simply stiffen at. She doesn't take it to heart, and deftly releases me.

"In drama class we were learning how to mimic someone else. And there's this girl who looks almost like you, Kariya-chan! I was partnered up with her. And see, if I take my hair out of my ponytail…like…this," she pats her hair down, smiling at me, "and then if I pull this on," she puts my hoodie on hurriedly, "I look a lot like you, don't I?"

"You do!" Kyoko agrees. "Here, let me try, too!" She pulls on another one of my sweaters.

I look in the mirror, and am shocked to see that they actually _do_ look a bit like me. _To someone who didn't know any better, or wasn't looking particularly closely, they might actually confuse Kyoko or Haru for me. _

"Don't do that," I snap.

"Hahi! Why not, Kariya-chan?"

"What's wrong?"

"Um. Eh. I..." I fumble for words, smacking myself mentally for my brazen reaction. I manage an awkward laugh. "Ne...Well, I like being...unique... (?)"

They blink, unsure of my response, but they take it in stride. _Either they're saints, or they're the biggest idiots that I've ever met—and I've met some pretty slow kids._

"Oh, well, Kariya-chan _is_ unique!"

"Yeah! You're right! We're all unique, so we should just dress like ourselves, right?"

I rummage through the plastic bag full of goodies until I find the make-up set. I toss it onto the dresser, and Haru and Kyoko gasp. They admire the casing and the thing in its 'new' glow. "It's all yours," I invite them, gesturing for them to...dig in.

They attack the packaging with much enthusiasm, leaving me to wonder whether they really were admiring the thing, or were they examining it before the kill? Or rather, were they already mentally taking it apart?

Haru picks up my cell phone from the table as Kyoko discards the plastic packaging. Haru slides the phone open, before giggling.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"N-Nothing! I'm sorry! I shouldn't have laughed. That was rude of me."

"No, it's okay, you can tell me," I prompt. _No, it's not okay. You've gotten me hooked—now I __need__ to know why you were laughing._

"Your wallpaper is really cute—Tsuna-san, Yamamoto-san, and Gokudera-san!" Haru answers. But I know that as believable as that was, it was a cover-up. I raise an eyebrow. "Alright, I'm sorry, Kariya-chan...It's just that I saw that Yamamoto-san is your only contact."

_Oh. Was that all? _I shrug. "It's no big deal. I don't use that phone anyway; so it makes sense for me not to have a million contacts."

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant. Kyoko-chan told me that—"

"Haru-chan!" Kyoko cuts her off quickly with a giggle of her own.

For some reason, there is no _need_ to know what they're talking about this time—subliminal messages (I don't want to know, for reasons unbeknownst to me).

Haru smiles, adding her number onto my contact list as well, then leaves the phone on the dresser.

The two girls turn their attentions onto the box of make-up, and I slink over to the bed, plopping down onto it and booting up my laptop, hoping to read some more manga to keep myself occupied—I have no idea how to talk to these girls, or what to say to them. So, in these situations, I should retreat.

Suddenly, the cell phone on the dresser vibrates, buzzing in a small arc until it reaches the edge and falls off, bouncing twice before landing upside-down in the carpet.

I bend down to pick it up.

"Who's it from?" Haru asks, applying some sort of mascara.

"Um..."

"Haru-chan, we shouldn't pry..."

"Oh! I'm sorry, Kariya-chan!"

"No, no. It's fine. The text is from..." My eyes dart around the small screen, trying to discern the characters. I find the term 'sender', and set to work in deducing who the person is.

My mind first translates the kanji into English. There's the character for 'Mountain', followed by 'Down'. Both are simple kanji that I'm sure even foreigners (like me...kind of) can easily learn to recognize.

Then my mind converts the words into romaji—so 'Mountain' becomes 'Yama', and 'Down' (in this particular term meaning 'the bottom of') becomes 'moto'.

I grin triumphantly, raising the cell phone high. "It's Yamamoto!" I cheer.

The two girls turn to me, blinking, then begin to giggle.

I stare at them, blinking back before I realize my mistake. I wave my hands. "No, no! I didn't mean it like that! I mean...yeah! Just not the way that you guys think!"

But whatever I say obviously does not convince them. But they stop their (blatant) teasing after a while, opting to leave me alone to decipher the cryptic code hidden with the bane of my existence (also known as the Japanese language) while they apply funky shades of eye shadow.

After staring at the screen for so long that I'm sure that a layer has been burnt off of my eyeballs, I admit to myself that I just can't read it. I'm not dyslexic, no. But the little loops and curls begin to look pretty damn similar after a while.

But I'm not about to ask for help. I mean, it's _these_ girls. I'll be laughed at for the rest of my life—not because I can't read it, but because of the questionable contents of this text. I mean, it's _Yamamoto._ Who knows what he texts people—especially _me_—about?

Meh. I'll do this myself then! On to Google translate!

* * *

><p>Long after the girls have left, I find myself disappointed with Google Translate and the internet in general. Gone are the days in which I thought Google was the answer to everything—that it was possible to find anything and everything on the blessed search engine that we mere mortals had been graced with.<p>

"What are you doing?" Tsuna asks.

"Cracking a code. Like a message in a bottle."

"Kariya-san..."

"Didn't I tell you this already? Drop the '_-san_'. It makes me feel old. I hate honorifics."

"Umm, alright, K-Kariya. You said that the only problem that you have with Japanese is reading and writing, right? But you understand it if it's spoken...so, this might help." Tsuna puts a piece of paper down in front of me.

"It's a chart of hiragana. On the flip side is katakana. It doesn't help much for kanji...so unless hiragana is also given, there's nothing much you can do about that."

I study it. Each character (read: squiggle) is accompanied by a Romanized pronunciation guide. It's completely handwritten, but not in the topsy-turvy, falling-over-at-any-moment chicken scratch of Tsuna's, nor is it the angular, slanting this way, then that way, sometimes big-and sometimes-squished-into-a-line script of Yamamoto's. It's in the rounded, full, _neat_ characters of Gokudera's impeccable handwriting.

It was probably made for Tsuna's use anyway. But it looks brand-new—without any smudges or coffee stains (from Reborn), nor any folds or bends of any kind.

Whatever it is, or its initial purpose, it is now in my possession and I intend to capitalize fully on this rare opportunity where a solution is handed down to me. Easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy style.

Luckily for me, I spot no other kanji in the short message other than Yamamoto's name. It takes me a while, but I connect each character to a romaji segment. Then I read it aloud to myself.

"_**Yamamoto Takeshi:**__ Yo, Kari-chan! Stay indoors today, alright? There've been some more attacks on Nami Chuu students—we found one guy after practice today. It was...pretty brutal. So make sure the kids are inside and that Tsuna's okay. If you see Gokudera, tell him that too. Be careful."_

My fingers grip the phone tightly. Lambo and I-Pin have already been tucked in. Tsuna's home and he's in his pyjamas—so he's not headed out anytime soon. Nana-san's taking a bath, and she seems pretty worn out. _But Fuuta...Fuuta's still missing... I know that Reborn's covered for him, mentioning something offhand to Nana-san, but still, I'm...worried about that kid._

I grab my cell phone, scrolling through it. _No, I don't have Gokudera's number._

After ascertaining the fact, I head into Bianchi's room. She's reading some romance novel when I enter unannounced. "Um, Bianchi?"

"Yes, Stella? What's wrong?"

"Can you, um...You know the attacks on Nami Chuu students that we've been hearing about lately?"

She nods solemnly, her brow furrowing slightly in the same way that her younger brother's does.

"Well," I continue, "there have been a lot more today...So can you...can you make sure Gokudera's okay too? I don't have his number, or I'd call him myself." _Not text..._

"Alright. You should make sure to get some rest, Stella. Get some sleep and don't worry too much about everyone."

"I'm not worried!"

"They are stronger than you give them credit for, Stella. Goodnight."

I close the door behind me. _I should call Kyoko to make sure that she's alright, and tell her to try and stay indoors, other than going to school, or if she really has to. And what about Hana? I don't really like Hana, and I'm sure that she doesn't really like me. But seeing her get hurt doesn't really benefit me...but then again, she does come off as a sensible girl. She'll be alright._ _And Kyoko can make sure that Hana's okay._

I put my cell phone in my pocket, opting to use the phone in the hallway, finding Kyoko's home phone number from a neat list beside the device. But no one at Kyoko's house picks up. I look at the clock—_11: 17 p.m._ They might be asleep already. Oh well. She has an older brother to look out for her. She's a pretty sheltered and loved girl, so she should be okay.

Yamamoto had said that it was Nami Chuu students that are being targeted, but I should call Haru too, to make sure that she got home safely.

There's a lonely sound as the phone rings, and I wait for someone to pick up, scuffing my slippers on the hardwood floor, biting my lip in anxiety.

I breathe a sigh when a voice on the other end greets me. "Hello?"

"Um, hi. This is, um, Kariya from uh, the," I swallow before managing a quick, "Sawadaresidence."

"I'm sorry? Oh. _Oh_. This is Haru's father. I was just about to call to make sure that she's alright."

My blood runs cold. "_What?_"

His reply is delayed a few seconds, as he's probably reached the same conclusion as me from our hesitancy. "Haru hasn't come home yet."

I drop the phone.

'_I look a lot like you, don't I?'_ Haru's words echo in my mind, and I shiver. I fumble for the device, holding it to my face to say, "Hold on, I'll be right over."

"Uh, what? Wait a moment! It's not safe at this time of night! I'll—"

"Your address is still the same right?"

"Yes, but, wait!"

"Then it should be the one that Haru gave me. I'll go and find her. I'll bring her home." _After all, if something's happened to her, it's my fault._

I hang up on him, placing the phone down a bit forcefully. I run upstairs, footsteps thundering, and snatch my jacket off of the floor of my room.

I run back down the stairs, skipping the last step, and charge into the genkan. I locate my shoes in a rush.

"Kariya-chan?" Nana-san's voice calls tentatively. "Kariya-chan!"

I pull my shoes on, and open the door roughly.

"Hunh?" At this point, Tsuna's also been alerted by the yelling. "Kariya-san! Where are you going?"

I pull the door shut behind me, ignoring them in the wake of my rising fear. _If anything's happened to Haru, it's all __my__ fault..._

The street is silent save for the murmur of late-night television and the occasional cricket that hasn't yet been killed off by the cold.

The neighbour's Chihuahua growls at me when I pass it but I don't stop to tease it, nor do I stop at the crosswalk to check both ways before trotting across it.

The shopping district is dark now, the shops closed, and the only lights are from the downtown region. But my immediate surroundings make the place feel like a ghost town. If I close my eyes, I can almost feel presences pressing against me.

I shudder and speed up, looking up to the starless night, cloaked by heavy clouds. I turn my eyes back down to the earth, scanning the horizon for any sign of Haru.

_Where could she possibly be?_ My eyes dart around the dark street, struggling to stay open. I swallow a yawn and push on, running into the park. I circle the playground, then dash through the open field, swing set creaking ominously behind me.

I feel my hackles rise, and I shiver, biting my lip and pushing on.

I check the convenient store by the bridge. My footsteps sound hollow as they pound over the thick metal, accompanied by the quiet gurgle of water rushing along below it. The streetlights are just turning on—_no...they're flashing. It's like they're warning me—telling me to turn back._

"_**Hey! Yo! Finally!"**_

I leap three feet into the air, screaming.

"_**Is this what you've been waiting for? Brand new G-D!"**_

_Dammit!_ I slap my hand over my mouth as my phone rings in my pocket, and dive into a low hedge on the side of the road. I wince and whimper as one of the stocky boughs cuts the back of my neck, one sticks into my ear, and the rest poke and prod at me painfully.

"_**I'm all by myself, but it's all good!"**_

I fumble for the phone, but all I manage to do is cause another stem to stab into my side. I wriggle, shifting into a better position, pulling my phone out of my pocket and part the branches of the bushes, peering around the area, heart pounding in my throat.

"_**You're my heartbreaker~"**_

Silencing the obnoxious K-Pop—_who the __fuck__ set this as my ringtone?_—I answer the call. "Hello?" I whisper, still keeping a lookout.

"Hello? Kariya-chan?" a feminine voice greets me.

Shocked, I pull the phone away from my ear to look at the name. There's the kanji symbol for 'Three', another kanji, then two Hiragana characters that I recognize: 'Ha' and 'Lu'. _Ha. Lu. Halu. Haru._

"Haru!" I gasp, pulling the phone back to my face. "Haru! Are you okay?"

_Why didn't I just call her cell phone earlier? Stupid!_

"Of course I'm okay!" she replies. "Where are you right now? Are you alright? You sound like you've been running."

"No," is my automatic answer. "I'm fine."

"Well, I'm just calling you to say thanks. My Dad was really worried. I'm at Kyoko's house for a sleepover right now, and I guess I kind of forgot to call him to let him know. He just called Kyoko's house a few minutes ago. I didn't have my cell phone on, so he couldn't reach me like that either."

_So, I couldn't have reached her even if I __had__ remembered to call her cell... and that probably would've made me even more anxious, anyway._

"Well, as long as you're okay and not in too much trouble, then I guess that it's all good, ne?" I breathe a heavy sigh.

"Yeah. I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble, Kariya-chan!" She apologizes profusely, and continues to do so long after I lose my patience, almost reminding me of Gokudera.

"It's. _ALRIGHT_," I say for what seems the umpteenth time. There's a loud sound behind me, and I spin around, glancing around wildly. It sounded like a cross between a crash and a wild cry.

There are sounds of running feet—and they're fast approaching.

"Haru," I cut her off hallways through her tangent on cakes and making it up to me with them, "I've gotta' go."

"Oh, alright. See—"

_Beep._

I hang up on her, slipping the phone in my pocket.

Something's out there. Something's _here._

I bolt, unable to take the pressing feeling of killing intent. I see a flash of what seems like glare off a pair of glasses, but I'm not stupid enough to stop and take a closer look.

It doesn't matter at this point. I just want _out of here._

So, I turn tail and do what I'm best at.

Under the cover of the black clouds, beneath the heavy tension of the atmosphere, being pursued by enemies that may or may not exist in the darkness of the September night, I run.

"_Run, Riri. Run, and keep running. Don't stop. Don't look back. Do you hear me? Just keep running!"_

There is no rush of excitement accompanying this sprint through the backstreets and past blaring car horns. There is only fear.

Somewhere along the way, I feel my pursuers peel off and dissipate in the night, but the fear doesn't let up, and I keep running.

I run over the bridge, past the bright lights of the convenience stores, the soft glow of the streetlights, over cracking pavement, through sparse traffic whizzing past in a blur of headlights, hot air and angry curses.

I run and run and _run_; back to the only place that I know as _safe_.

I run back home.

I run back home into the waiting arms of Nana-san, who's dressed in her nightgown and house slippers with a worried expression on her face. She smoothes my hair down in a soothing manner, the tension leaving her slight shoulders while laughing lightly. "We were all so worried when you suddenly ran from the house. Don't scare us like that, Kariya-chan... Let's go inside, shall we?"

I rub my eyes, and, not meeting Nana-san's eyes, I nod.

_I'm home..._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Heya everybody! I hope school's been treating you (relatively) well, unlike little Kariya here. I may enjoy throwing crap her way a little _too_ much. But it's just so much fun irking her~

For those people who didn't know, balancing chemical equations is a chemistry thing (no duh), that mostly uses math, as well as the chemical short forms—like the ones on the Periodic Table of the Elements. The table is used universally, so no matter what language you speak, the abbreviations are always the same—that's why Kariya was able to do that part on the test.

And yes, Kariya's ringtone is '_Heartbreaker_' by G-Dragon. It gets really annoying after a while.

If you're ever being followed in the dark—or in any situation like Kariya's near the end—then keep your cell phone on, and keep talking to the person on the other end. Make sure to let them know what's going on your end. This is because the stalker is less likely to try something if they know that you're talking to someone. Furthermore, if they _do_ act, then you can call for help immediately.

Fuuuuuu... Enough with dark stuff.

Actually, I lied. The next few chapters may be a bit dark. Your mileage may vary though. But rest assured, in the darkest night, there's still light, though it may be hard to see.

Damn, that was so corny. X)


End file.
